


Saving the Savior

by Aquien



Series: Saviors [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Attempt at Humor, Broken Harry, Caring Draco, Complete, Cutting, Demisexual Draco, Depressed Harry, Desperation, Fantasizing, Fluff and Humor, Food, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Obsessive Draco, Rimming, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Fantasy, Tired Harry, Virgin Draco Malfoy, loving thy enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquien/pseuds/Aquien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a fluff ... but just as with all pretty things, darkness lurks below.</p><p>WARNING: contains depressive thoughts, self harm etc. More specific warnings with each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter, "The Kiss" was at first meant to be a stand alone. It inspired me to a longer story though. The thing is, the "feel" of the first chapter compared to the rest is really different - the style in "The Kiss" is light and humorous (or at least it is trying to be), which isn't the kind of thing I usually write. The rest is more about depression and anxiety and general screwed-up:edness, the sort of thing I myself usually prefer.
> 
> So, if you want light and fun, treat Chapter One as the whole story.
> 
> If you want angst and seriousness, don't be discouraged by the fluffy start. It will get worse :)

Harry’s POV

Harry tuned out the sound of Hermione and Ron bickering on about one thing or another next to him. He was getting tired of them always finding something to argue about - that seemed to be the only thing they did these days. At some point one of them would try to drag him into it all for support against the other. As he would be so stupid as to get in the middle of a couple’s argument! So he tuned them out and focused on the plate before him, which was filled with bacon and mashed potatoes. Somehow, a couple of vegetables had made it on there too - Hermione’s lectures about a healthy diet must be getting to his subconsciousness.

Almost everyone must have been to lunch now, all the tables were full and the noise level reaching disgustingly high levels. He could hardly hear himself think, for Merlin’s sake! Angrily, he shook his head to himself in irritation and furrowed his brow. Determined to focus only on his food and not the chaos surrounding him, he looked down and picked up his fork. He didn’t have time to eat for long though, before someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He looked up to see who it might be, at the same time opening his mouth in question. Before he could get any words out though, a pair of lips came crushing down on his, making all thoughts disappear from his head.

A tongue took the opportunity of his already parted lips and licked the inside of his mouth. The kiss in itself was forceful and passionate, but the lips were soft and strong. The owner of said lips pressed Harry back against the table and somewhere deep inside Harry’s mind the maleness of the other registered. A lean, hard body. Blond, almost white hair. Slightly ragged breathing. Harry found that he was answering the kiss when a moan escaped him unwillingly. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Harry found himself gaping in astonishment at the retreating back of Draco Malfoy. Harry could hear Malfoy muttering to himself, as he angrily stalked towards the Slytherin table. Something about “stupid, bloody Potter” reached his ears.

Then he realized that the whole mass of people in the Great Hall was actually quiet. Mouths agape, people frozen in mid-movements. All staring at him, or at Malfoy.

Malfoy reached the Slytherin table and sat down between Parkinson and Zabini. They too just gaped at him. Malfoy shot him an emotionless glance before bending down over his food and resuming to eat just as if he had not just stomped over to his enemy of seven years and kissed him as his life depended on it.

“Mate, did Malfoy just… snog you?” Ron managed to choke up beside him, looking vaguely green. Harry didn’t even bother to try to come up with a response, he was too busy just staring at Malfoy, who was sitting there at the Slytherin table, eating his lunch.

 

Draco’s POV

Bloody Potter, ruining everything. Now he was even ruining Draco’s lunch! Sitting there, looking like that. Hair always so messed up. Like he had just been shagging. Maybe he had? The thought made Draco frown to himself. That would be so like Potter. Shagging all day long and never bothering to fix his hair afterward. Probably on purpose. He wanted everyone to see that he’d been doing some twat. Wanted to brag about it. Wanted to make it known that he could shag around, having anyone - not Draco of course - but anyone else.

Harry’s hair had looked like that since he was eleven though. He had probably not been shagging around back then though. So what was it? Some twisted muggle-thing? Having to walk around, looking like that. Like sex on legs? (Wait, where did THAT thought come from?!) Now Harry was frowning over something. Looking at Granger and the Weasel disapprovingly, then turning to look around the hall, still frowning. What, was he too good for Hogwarts now? Or just too good to eat amongst others? He probably sat there thinking that he should have his own private dining room. Then he could shag while eating. Eating naked. They would probably be using each other as plates. Licking sauce from each other’s bodies. That pervert. The nerve of him! Sitting there putting those kind of thoughts into Draco’s mind while Draco is trying to eat.

Draco glanced down at his plate, realizing the food is still untouched. Damn Potter, ruining his appetite with his perverted food-sex-games! Why was the teachers not stopping him? Of course, they would allow the Golden Boy to do just about anything. Still, ruining innocent bystander’s appetite like that. He should be punished. Severely. And if there where any justice to it all, said innocent bystander should get to do the punishing. Something really cruel. Like, tie him up. Yes, that would do it. Tie up Potter. Gag him too. Naked. Then that poor, innocent bystander could lick some nice, whipped cream from Potter’s nipples. That would teach him! Maybe there would be some cherries involved too. And chocolate sauce. Lots and lots of chocolate sauce. Then Potter would just have to lie there, twisting in his bonds while Draco taught him not to go around shagging while eating and then walk around shamelessly not even bothering to hide it. Yes, yes, that really should be done.

Draco looked down at his plate again, moving the food around with his fork. Absentmindedly some end up in his mouth and he chewed thoughtfully, thinking about all the ways Potter deserve to be punished. Tied up for Draco to do with whatever he sees fit. Then, only then may he walk around with such messed-up hair and swollen lips. Wait! Draco’s eyes searched for Potter. He knew there was something amiss; something that did not add up! Potter’s hair has that just-shagged look, but his lips were not swollen at all. They actually look like they had not gotten kissed in ages. What, the Savior’s too good for kissing - walking around sticking his cock in random holes but not bothering with any foreplay at all? Draco winced at the thought. The Golden Boy has absolutely no thought whatsoever to what is proper. Like, aesthetics. It should be evident that for it to be even remotely okay to walk around with hair like that, the lips should match. There is no shame in Potter, of that Draco is absolutely sure. He looks around, turning his gaze up toward the teachers table again - is no one going to do anything? Not even point it out to the bastard? Potter can apparently get away with anything, and it is a affront to good taste if nothing else.

Well, Draco is not just going to sit there and take it anymore. If no one else is going to do something about it, he will. He put down the fork with a loud clink that made Blaise and Pansy turn and look at him for a moment. If they were about to say something though, he did not hear it as he did not have the time to stay and listen. He round the table and walked straight up to Potter. Before any annoying doubts about what he were doing surfaced, he touched Potter’s shoulder and as he turned around Draco promptly pushed their lips together. Potter’s lips are already apart - eager little bugger, is he? - so Draco did not waste a second but push his tongue inside Potter’s mouth to do some exploring now that he has the chance. At first, Potter keeps his lips still, but slowly Draco feels them starting to move. A jolt went through him and for a moment he lost all thoughts as to why he is doing this (not doing it would have offended his sense of aesthetics!) and he looses himself in the kiss for a while. Potter made a moaning sound and Draco smiled a little - who knew Potter could make so delicious sounds? The thought took him back to the reality though, and he forced himself to stop - he is on a mission here. He looks down at his work, now Potters lips match his hair, as they should. Pleased, Draco turns and walks back to his own table.

He reflects shortly over the odd quiet in the Great Hall, but does not let it bother him. When he sits down, he glances over at Potter; now he looks like he should. Aesthetic. Draco takes his fork and absentmindedly continues his lunch. As he continues to ignore how the silence turns into astonished whispers, how heads turn to stare and glare at him, he tries to remember what he was thinking about when Potter’s lack of any sense of shame interrupted him. Oh yes; Potter need to be punished. Tied up. Licked. Kissed senseless.


	2. Chapter 2

“Draco!”

…

“Draco!”

Frowning, Draco turned to Pansy, who walked beside him on their way to Charms. Blaise walked on the other side of her, looking just as confounded as she did. Draco looked at them, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“Draco darling, would you perhaps care to explain why the hell you snogged Potter of all people?” the words seemed to tumble out of Pansy’s mouth, her expression telling everyone that she was astonished that there actually was a reason to let these particular words out of her mouth to ask the question.

Draco just shrugged. “Someone had to,” he stated flatly. “Couldn’t let Potter continue to walk around looking like that. Not even the teachers did anything to stop him! No, no, the Great Savior can do just about anything!” At those last words, Draco frowned to himself, feeling annoyed again. Suddenly he noticed Pansy and Blaise were not walking beside him anymore. He stopped and turned around, finding them standing there, gaping at him.

“…” , Blaise said.

“…” , Pansy added.

“Draco…” “Dude…”, they continued, speaking at the same time, and then stopping again, struggling for words.

“You don’t make any sense now darling, you know that, don’t you?” Pansy finally got out, finding her composure and walked up to Draco. Blaise muttered to himself about something that seemed to be about marbles, but the rest was lost to Draco. He looked at them, head cocked slightly.

“He did not match. It was really shameful behavior on his part,” he stated, not believing he really had to spell it out for them. Did they not have eyes? Pans and Blaise were usually more observant than this!

“Match what exactly?” Pansy still looked at him like he had escaped from the loony ward on St Mungo’s. Blaise would not even look at him. Draco sighed. “His lips. They did not match his hair. We’re going to be late for Charms,” Draco said and turned to continue his way to class. He heard Pansy and Blaise starting to whisper something behind him, but he did not care. Apparently even his best friends had lost their touch - or maybe just their eye-sight. He would have to help them somehow, that was what friends are for, but right now he had to get to class.

***

“Malfoy snogged you,” Ron repeated, not really sounding like he believed his own words. “He SNOGGED you!”

Harry just nodded. He just could not get a word out, not even if his life depended on it. It felt like he probably would never, ever speak again. Neither would he ever think about anything else than Malfoy’s lips, pressed against his, firm and soft at the same time. His tongue invading Harry’s mouth, exploring passionately. The feeling of Malfoy’s body against his, all angles and lean muscles. His scent, like fresh pine with a subtle undertone of mint…

They were on their way to the greenhouse for herbology class. Harry just let his feet take him, walking in a daze. Ron continued his sputtering, but for deaf ears. The rest of the day continued in pretty much the same way, Harry just grunting something every now and then to show he was alive, Ron spewing out a maelstrom of disbelieving words. Luckily, after herbology there was only History of Magic, so it was not like they needed to concentrate.

Harry was aware of people whispering and staring at him, but then again he was used to it by now which made it easy to ignore them. Luckily, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen at dinner. Still, Harry ate quickly and retreated to the Gryffindor dormitory. He felt a strong need to be alone, so he went up to his room, closed the curtains around his bed and lay down. He spelled the curtains to stay close and with _silencio_ he muted all sounds. He was tired. Tired to the depths of his core, it felt like. He knew Ron would be upset at him for closing himself away like this, instead of hashing it out about Malfoy’s kiss, probably listen to theories about why and plans on hexes to use as a revenge. Harry did not want any of that. Harry just wanted to be alone for a little while, just for a moment he needed to shut away the whole world. He wanted to have just a short moment to close his eyes and remember the feeling of someone else taking control for once. He just wanted to focus on the feeling of Malfoy’s lips and tongue; he would leave the why’s for later.

Ron would not understand that. Harry suspected no one would. They were not the bloody savior. They had not had the fate of the whole wizarding world resting on their shoulders. They had not had their life planned out for them from the tender age of one.

Harry lay there on his bed, not allowing himself to think or feel anything but the memory of Malfoy’s kiss. He really did mean it to just be a moment, half an hour at most, then he would take down the barriers, go to the common room and listen to Ron rant on, Hermione’s theories and whatever inputs everyone else would inevitably come up with. He really meant to do that. Instead he fell asleep, fully clothed and with a rare smile on his lips.

***

Draco spent the evening ignoring his friends. Some friends they were, anyway; sending him odd looks all the time and just harrumphing in answer while looking at him with peculiar expressions when he tried to explain to them the obvious. Someone (probably Potter!) must have hexed his friends stupid. It was now up to him to set things right. Not tonight though, he already had plans. Maybe he could schedule in fixing his friends at the weekend? That would mean sacrificing the two hours he had meant to keep for leisure, but then again those two hours had caused him some anxiety as he had not been able to decide on exactly what kind of leisure he wanted to spend them on. Might as well save his friends then.

Draco was sitting on the floor, next to his bed. He had emptied his trunk beside him and was now sorting through it all, arranging and cataloging everything. He could not believe he had allowed his trunk to get so disorganized! How would he ever get his NEWTs if his supply of quills was all over the place instead of stacked neatly in the upper left corner as they should be. He had found at least two of his quills inside his cauldron. INSIDE it. Draco frowned at himself, he really had to pull himself together. Only failure is on the end of such sloppiness, everyone knew that. Failure was not an option for him - if he was to have any chance of decent employment he had to get all O:s. To get all O:s, he had to study and keep everything organized. Everything.

When he was done with his trunk, he took out Quill #3 and a scroll from category 1B to start on his potions essay. He went down to the common room and found a quiet corner where to sit and work. It was not long, however, until he once again was disturbed by the unruly behavior of his hexed comrades. They started to bother him about Potter again, demanding he should explain to them - again - the evident necessity of kissing Potter. He had done them all a favor and they were behaving like they did not see it. It was days like this that made him question the intelligence of his friends. They were supposed to be in Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake! How could they not see that which is clear as day? Potter really must be laughing now, turning all Slytherins but Draco into Hufflepuffs.

Sighing irritably, he took his quill and scroll and left the Slytherin dungeons. He just had to look for somewhere else to work if he were to get any work done today. Too bad there were still the whole day tomorrow to go through before Saturday, when he would have the time to look into Potter’s hex. Draco shook his head to himself, no use thinking about that now. He found a small, abandoned alcove on the fourth floor and made himself comfortable.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Possible TRIGGERS, in the form of references to selfharm (cutting) and depressive, self-hating thoughts.

Harry tried to resist waking up, but no matter his efforts, he soon found himself awake. He had had a pleasant dream, for once, even though he did not remember what it had been about. Usually he had only nightmares. Even though he had slept well, he was tired though. He would guess one good nights sleep did not make up for all the restless dreams and nights spent awake, trying to keep his eyes open so that the images he kept seeing would stay away. Instead, he would spend the nights with his thoughts, which were not that much better.

Slowly, he got up. As he tried the curtains, he was reminded of the barrier-spell he had put up the day before, and realized he had fallen asleep. He groaned to himself, Ron would surely make a big deal out of it - when did he not? Harry felt like just getting back into bed, not facing Ron, Hermione or anyone. Not facing Malfoy. He felt himself blush, as he thought about the kiss. It had probably been a joke, a dare or just a new way that Malfoy tried to make Harry look like a fool. To think he had fallen asleep thinking about how it had felt, wanting to feel it again! Merlin, he was so stupid at times.

Harry really just wanted to stay in bed.

*

“Mr Potter!” McGonagall sounded almost desperate. “Mr Potter, a moment please.” It might have been worded to sound like a request, but Harry knew it was not. He sighed and followed the Head Mistress to her office. He guessed the Savior was not supposed to be hungry in the morning, or opposed to eating in a hurry.

“I’ll get right to the point, Mr Potter. As you know, several Death Eaters escaped punishment and are now in hiding,” McGonagall’s used her no-nonsense, serious, not-taking-no-for-an-answer-to-the-request(demand)-I-will-soon-be-making-voice. Nothing new there.

“There has been some rumors of them seeking revenge and coming around here to do so - revenge against you, Mr Potter, but also against the school in general, as the final battle was fought here. Whether these rumors are true or not, I believe in being prepared. I would assume that you agree, yes.” Harry just nodded, knowing she would not listen to anything else anyway. He guessed he really did agree though, he just wished being prepared would not involve him - something he already knew it would. Danger is coming? Of course it would involve him. It always did. You would think saving the friggin’ world from Voldemort would have earned you a break, but no. Of course not. Harry did not give voice to any of his thoughts though, neither did he let them show on his face.

“I have already contacted the Head Auror, but as the aurors left after the war are all busy trying to find these Death Eaters, they don’t have the resources to have any stationed here just in case they do show up. So even if I’m reluctant to put any defensive responsibilities on students, I’ve concluded that the best thing to do is to restart DA, and include some new students as well - I’d think all who are willing and have gotten their OWL:s should be qualified. I hope they won’t have to test their fighting skills here, but in any case knowing how to defend themselves, and the school, will be of use to them later in life. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Potter?” Again, her question was not actually a question, so Harry just nodded. She did have a point too, and he was fairly certain where this was going. He made an inward sigh to himself; like he had not had enough of fighting already?

“The new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher is capable, but young and lacks practical experience - I believe she was studying with the monks in Tibet during the war. Thus, I believe it only best that DA is led by the one who formed it - you. Professor Little has promised to be available to you if you want to discuss strategies for class planning and such. In addition, I believe the old DA members will only be happy to help you teach the new ones who want to sign up.” McGonagall paused in her tirade, giving Harry a chance to speak. He tried to find something to say that would allow him to back out, but found nothing. The fact was, he agreed with everything she had said. He just wished he could have stayed out of it this once at least.

“Okay,” was all he said when McGonagall raised a quizzical eyebrow at his silence. That one word seemed to please her well enough. She went on to tell him she had looked over his schedule, and planned for DA to meet in the restored Room of Requirement every Wednesday at six pm.

*

When he finally got to leave her office, he was late, as he had guessed he would be. He barely had the time to run by the Great Hall to grab a piece of toast and gulp down a cup of coffee before hurrying out to Care of Magical Creatures. At least Hagrid would not give him a hard time if he was a minute or two late. On the other hand, they shared the class with the Slytherins - which meant having to face Malfoy.

A little bit later he joined Hermione and Ron just outside Hagrid’s hut. He had almost made it on time and the only one to notice his tardiness was a frowning Malfoy. The git did not say anything though, for once, so Harry just frowned back and turned his attention to Hagrid.

***

Potter was late. He came running to class, all red in the face. Who had he been shagging now? Probably the Weaslette, Malfoy thought with disgust. That witch just gave it to anyone, but Potter seemed to have a blind spot when it came to her - when it came to all the red-haired Weasel’s really. Potter even had his tie on all wrong, again. Why would no one teach that bloody “Savior” - Draco put air-quotes to the word in his mind - some rudimentary skills at least, like how to dress himself properly?

With some effort, Draco put the ever-so—tasteless prat out of his mind and focused on Hagrid - another disaster when it came to good taste and proper etiquette and style. Not to mind he was a half-breed, although Draco did not feel as strongly as he once did about that. War had a tendency to change people, he gathered. It was just that Professors should speak properly. And dress. And, well, smell - not that Draco actually was that interested in smelling Hagrid, but as it was he was standing downwind from him, and he had a sensitive nose, okay?

Hagrid was telling them about this new project they were to begin. Some rare creature he was about to acquire for them - a fire-lark, he called it. Lark or not, the name had “fire” in it, so Draco did not think that boded well - and from the look of it, none of the others seemed that enthusiastic either. Not even Granger, surprisingly enough.

The fire-larks was supposed to be here already, but there had been some problems in delivery, so today they were to just form groups of three and walk around the grounds, looking for ideas on what they would try to feed the creatures once they arrived. Draco grouped up with Blaise and Pansy, and they drifted away. His friends still gave him weird looks, but seemed to at least have stopped bothering him for the moment.

As they turned to walk towards the lake, they walked by Potter. Potter was tugging at his tie, Draco guessed in futile attempts to make it hang straight, but managed to just disfigure the horrible looking knot even further and rumpling up his robes too in the process. Draco sighed - how Potter had been able to kill the Dark Lord with that kind of lack of any sort of eye for detail, was beyond his understanding. Angrily and frowning he turned and walked up to Potter. With a couple of simple spells Potter’s tie and robes straightened themselves out. Draco considered doing something about the prat’s hair as well, but people were doing that annoying staring thing again, so he decided to leave it for now. At least Potter was almost presentable now.

***

Malfoy had just taken out his wand and pointed it at him. Harry cursed himself for his lack of reflexes, guessing he was about to be hit with some ridiculous hex when suddenly his tie and robes just fell into place like he had tried to get them to do. Had Malfoy just fixed his clothing? Harry was left once again, staring at Malfoy’s back, the whole thing gone by so fast he had not had the time to react in any way. This was getting really weird! At least he was not the only one to think so, he gathered from the expressions on the faces of his mates and the other Slytherins. Some of the latter was throwing him angry glances, as if Malfoy loosing his mind was somehow his fault.

Sighing - he seemed to be doing that a lot lately - he just joined Ron and Hermione, walking towards the Whipping Willow. They too seemed to think he should know what was up with Malfoy, as they kept pestering him for answers about the git’s behavior.

Soon, they were bickering amongst themselves though, something about ‘Mione wanting to go to the library and study and Ron wanting to make out - Ron thinking ‘Mione was being a bore, ‘Mione thinking Ron was not taking the NEWT:s seriously enough. Nothing new there then.

Harry let his thoughts drift. Not too surprisingly, he found them drifting to a certain, pointy-faced git. He tried not to let them, but in vain. Yesterday, there was the kiss. A kiss like Harry had not even imagined possible. Then, today, he had straightened Harry’s clothes. Like he actually cared about Harry. Harry knew that was not it though. The war was over, but from the hateful looks Malfoy had thrown him when Harry had spoken on his behalf at his trial, and then later on the Hogwart’s train and when running into each other during the days preceding the kiss, he knew that their personal war was far from fought out.

So, what was Malfoy planning at? Making him look bad, probably. Harry felt like he should care, but somehow he was not able to assemble the energy. Sighing, he closed his eyes for just a little bit, gathering the strength to force his thought of Malfoy and to the task ahead. Fire-larks. Food. Bugger it all.

*

The rest of the day went by almost like in a fog. There was a lot of sighing on Harry’s part and bickering on the part of Ron and Hermione. They hardly even noticed he was there anymore, Harry thought. When classes were over for the day - and for the week as it was Friday - they went to the library to study; Hermione winning the argument at last. They wanted Harry to join them, but he made the excuse that he had to make some plans for the DA class starting next week. At least something good came out of that assignment, he thought to himself.

Alone in their dormitory, he closed the curtains around his bed and once again put up a barrier and a _silencio_. He had been doing that almost every evening, since the start of the term. Usually just for a little while, an hour or so. He loved his mates, but lately he just wanted to be left alone. Lately, he just couldn’t muster up the energy to really, truly care about anything.

Before sitting down on his bed, he took out a worn photograph from his trunk. It was the one with his parents and himself, just before they were killed. They smiled and waved at him. Harry felt like he should be crying, but there just were not any tears in him anymore.

What would his parents think of him, if they saw him now? Knew his thoughts? Knew how he went through the days, just wishing for them to end. How he just wanted some rest, for once in his life. What would they think if they heard his wish to just say to the whole bloody world to go suck it; he was done. The next Dark Lord or Death Eater-threat or whatever could just get on with it and kill him - and everybody else too - and see if he cared. At least then he would get some bloody rest from all the requests that really were poorly disguised demands, and from the outright demands for his time in helping “for the good of all”. He had helped enough, in his mind. Apparently, not in anyone else’s.

He put the photograph away, not bearing to look at it anymore. They would be so disappointed in him, he just knew it. He had killed Voldemort, and now he was taking his NEWT:s before joining the aurors. He should be thankful he had survived and had - and continued to have - the opportunity to actually make a difference. Not everyone had that; few had that actually. He should appreciate it, but he just did not.

Dumbledore would be disappointed as well. Sirius and Lupin too. Tonks. Everyone who had given their lives in the war would hate him, if they knew his thoughts now.

Without thinking, Harry put his hand under the mattress. He soon found what he’d been looking for. He had bought it a little more than a month ago, as a birthday-gift to himself. “Happy 18th birthday, Harry! Here’s a razorblade charmed never to go dull,” he thought to himself as he laughed joylessly.

Just one small cut. Only one, no more.

He just wanted to feel something, anything other than the blend of emptiness and despair. He just wanted to quiet the voice in his head, reminding him of what a big disappointment he was.

He did not want to die. He just wanted to rest a little. To get that rest, he had to lessen the pain in his heart.

If any of those real heroes, those who had actually sacrificed their lives in the war against Voldemort, knew what Harry was doing, they would lock him up in St Mungo’s, he knew it. He could just picture the look in their eyes before they turned and walked away, throwing away the key.

In his minds eye, he pictured the look in his parents eyes.

He just had to get it all away. He just had to forget the images, just for a moment, he had to silence their voices.

One cut was never enough.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for possible TRIGGERS also in this chapter. Triggers being some selfharm again, and negative thoughts.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos (and comments). They are really appreciated!

The first thing he did when he woke up, was to look over the schedule for his day. He knew it by heart, but it was the principle of things - Draco always started his day looking at his schedule. At least he did these days. He needed to make sure he was following the Plan. His plan. He had let Father make his decisions before this, and look where that had gotten him. He had even gotten himself branded with the mark of a madman! Draco had known the Dark Lord (he had tried to at least think his name, but old habits - and fears - die hard apparently) was absolutely bonkers, but Father had made their path to follow him and family is everything. Father might have been wrong about almost everything he had ever taught Draco, but not that. In that Draco still believed. With Father in Azkaban and Mother… (”No, don’t go there!” his mind instantly warned him. “Do NOT go there!”) …Mother needed her family right now, and her family was Draco.

So, Mother needed family, and she needed her family to do better than it had before. Make better decisions. Succeed. Draco needed to make Mother proud. Father’s way had been the wrong way, so Draco needed to find the right way now, by himself. He needed to. It was just that no one had ever taught him how to do anything else than obey Father. He was learning though, and he had thus spent the summer making up His Plan. Step one was to get all Os on his NEWTs. He knew he was smart, but the last two years his studies had suffered somewhat (to say the least). So he made a Plan Within His Plan. And he planned to follow his Plan to the letter. Everything had to be perfect - he needed it to be perfect, for Mother.

As it was Saturday, he was to spend all morning up to lunch in the library studying. After lunch he was going to unhex his fellow Slytherins. With that done, he’d spend the rest of the afternoon working on his essay for Muggle studies (as Father had forbidden him to have anything to do with muggles that was not absolutely necessary and he was now making an effort to do different than Father had ordered, he had signed up for muggle studies first thing when returning to Hogwarts. He found the subject quite fascinating really - such a creative bunch, those muggles, coming up with things like mopeds and microwaves to make up for their lack of magic. Who knew?!). This he would finally be able to do in the comfort of the common room, as his friends would then finally stop bothering him with idiotic questions.

“So Malfoy, snogged Potter some more lately?” Theo’s mocking voice was the first Draco heard as he came down to the common room. He gave Theo a cool look, not bothering to respond with anything else than a slightly raised eyebrow. Pans joined him as he left for breakfast, but as usual these days, even she was starting to look uncomfortable in his presence. Come to think of it, he realized Blaise had been avoiding him quite a lot these last two days. He frowned slightly, but well, that would all change come evening. For now, he needed to focus on breakfast and then the library. There was a time for everything, and the time to unhex his friends just wasn’t here yet.

Should he plan in the time to get Potter back for the hexing though? He probably should. Someone had to teach that prat a lesson. If the rest of the world was content letting him off the hook for everything just because he had killed a little madman, well, Draco was not jumping on that bandwagon, that was for sure!

When would he have the time though? Today was out of the question. Tomorrow was Sunday. As usual, he had the whole day scheduled, but there was that hour he left in the evening for relaxation. Maybe…

“Draco,” Pansy sounded careful, like she did not know if she really wanted to speak to him or not. Draco actually would have preferred not at the moment, as she had been increasingly annoying. He needed to remind himself that it was not her fault, it was Potter’s, but still. Frowning, he turned to her anyway.

“I’m worried about you” Pansy sounded sincere and Draco was not really sure how to handle worry, so he just looked at her in response.

“You’re acting strange. That kissing Potter business, and I’m sorry darling, but your explanation makes no sense! And then that … that thing you did yesterday, fixing up his clothing and… But it’s not only Potter. You’re not yourself anymore! Yesterday when I took your quill from your desk, you practically had a meltdown! And what about last week, when we arrived here? I heard from Blaise that you had a long rant about the beds in your dorm not being _aligned_ properly! Even Mill is cautious of you since you lectured her on how to keep cat hair of her robes - and Mill’s not exactly one to scare easily! And what about…” Draco had had enough. Pans clearly was on a rant now, and until she was unhexed, there was nothing he could say or do to make her see how ridiculously she was behaving. He tuned out her voice and just continued to the Great Hall, not paying her any attention. She frowned, but fell silent after a short while and followed him to sit down at their usual places.

“I care about you darling, you know that, don’t you” Pans was looking at him imploringly, and he felt a little less annoyed. It was not her fault after all. He smiled at her “I care about you too, Pans. Don’t worry, you’ll understand later today, I promise”. Pansy looked doubtful, but at least she let him eat his breakfast in peace. Which was more than could be said about Potter.

Potter looked bloody awful. Like he had not slept a wink. Draco frowned at him. One of these days… Tomorrow, maybe? He would show that ponce and teach him a thing or two about thinking about others for a change. Did he not even own a mirror? Or was he so blind that even those, those _spectacles_ was of no use? Pale and hollow-eyed he just sat there, picking at the food. The food here was probably not up to hero-standard, Draco figured. Potter’s hair seemed to be standing out in even more directions than usual, if that was even possible.

Draco glanced over at the two other members of the Golden Trio. How could they let Potter walk around like that? When he looked at them a little closer though, he saw that they were looking over at Potter, all frowning and worried-like. Maybe those close to the Savior was not so blind after all? Although being allies with the Weasel and Granger was mot anything Draco planned on. He might have decided to chose a different path than his Fathers, but he still had his standards.

Ah well, no matter how much Potter disturbed him, he did not have the time to do anything about that right now. He needed to be in the library in five minutes. Nodding to Pansy, he got up and left, determinedly not looking at Potter again as he did.

***

Harry felt like hell. Ron had practically dragged him out of bed this morning. Harry had just wanted to sleep, it was Saturday, should he not get to do what he wanted? But no, he had to get up and dressed and apparently _“go outside a bit”_ as ‘Mione put it. Both Hermione and Ron were frowning angrily at him. He was not sure what he had done now, and he was not really in the mood to care. He was just so tired, why would they not leave him the hell alone? He just wanted to sleep. Preferably without dreams.

At least yesterday had given him that. He knew it was wrong, what he did, but somehow doing it kept the nightmares away for awhile. He did not know how, but it just did. Absentmindedly he put his right hand on his left arm, pushing lightly. He knew it was a risk not healing them, but he needed to let them be. Picking on and pinching the healing wounds helped him make it through the day. When he felt about to explode, he would push extra hard at them, sometimes even with his nails, and then he would be able to continue on - almost smiling at times.

He noted Malfoy coming in with Parkinson, but did not have any energy to feel anything. So the git was planning to humiliate him somehow or something like that? Let him. No matter what, he just did not care. For short moments, he could remember the kiss and how Malfoy had fixed his clothes, and pretend he had done it out of care. He could pretend someone wanted to take care of him, for a change. If he thought about it for any longer time, he knew he was fooling himself, but that was all he had. That, and the blade.

“You gonna eat that mate?” Ron asked him, frowning and looking at Harry’s toast and fried eggs. He had picked a little at the eggs and taken a bite of the toast but it all was so tasteless. He shrugged in response, taking a big sip of his coffee. At least the coffee went down. Coffee was pretty much the only sustenance he felt desire for these days. “‘Mione and her lectures on healthy foods be damned!” he thought rebelliously to himself.

“You gotta eat something Harry. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know.” Hermione just would not give it up. Harry knew she cared. Or at least she used to. These days, she seemed to just frown at him all the time. Merlin maybe knew what he had done to offend her, but Harry sure did not. And was she always such a nag about eating too, or was it new? Nagging about the NEWTs wasn’t enough anymore?

“Mate…” Ron started and Harry just had had it. He shot a glare at them both and just got up and stalked out. He felt he had been doing that a lot lately, but he just could not take it. If people were not demanding things of him, they were complaining and nagging and angry. Never asking what he, Harry, wanted, just ordering him around. Even his so called friends. Real friends would not do that, would they? Real friends would see that he needed rest. Real friends would just leave him the hell alone… A small voice in the back of his head tried to tell him that no, real friends would not do that. Real friends would show they cared by making sure he ate, got up and about and if not actually hanging out in big groups, at least talked to someone. Harry quieted that voice quickly though, as it just made him feel even more guilty about lashing out like that and being angry with his mates.

Harry wanted to return to sleep, but that would be the first place Ron and ‘Mione would look (as if they would bother to, but anyway). Instead he decided to go to the library. He planned on finding a quite corner and then pretending to read something so that no one would - hopefully - dare to bother him.

***

Draco had been reading for a little more than an hour when he was disturbed by a couple of fifth year Ravenclaws starting to argue over what appeared to be a transfiguration assignment. Luckily, ha was not the only one angered, and after being told of by Mrs Pince they quieted down once again. Draco was just about to return to his reading, when something - or rather someone - in the corner caught his attention. Potter! Draco could not believe it. Potter, actually studying? He had assumed the bloody ponce would not bother, that he would probably score all Os just because he was Potter. But here he was, nose deep in a book. Draco could hardly believe his eyes.

He knew he really should keep to his own reading, he had to keep to the Plan. He would be able to concentrate better if he stretched his legs for a minute though, so he got up - he just wanted to have a look at exactly what Potter was reading, as it was such a rare sight. What book would make even the Savior volunteer to spend time in the library?

 _The golden guide to Alchemy_ , Draco read from the cover of Potters book. That was surprising, he thought, as it was not even on the curriculum for the NEWTs. Well, at least this proved Potter did know how to read, Draco thought and smirked to himself. And alchemy was quite an interesting subject, at least as a hobby, he thought. He was just about to return to his own reading, when a slight sound caught his ears. It was coming from Potter. Frowning, Draco took a few steps closer. The sound came again. It sounded like… Snoring? He took a few more steps, to have a look. And bloody hell, the ponce was actually sleeping! Here he had been, almost thinking that Potter actually could do something right for ones, but no. He was actually just pretending to read, probably to raise his image even more. That git!

Draco felt rage building in his stomach; it was so unfair! Bloody Potter, having it so easy, everyone just loving him whatever he did. Before he thought about it anymore, he stalked the rest of the way over to Potter and angrily snatched the book from him. As Potter wasn’t holding on to the book, he barely flinched in his sleep as it was taken from him. Feeling an urge to shake Potter awake and shout at him, he followed the first urge but restrained himself at the second - they were at the library, after all.

“Wh-haaattt?” Potter grumbled shakily and seemingly disoriented as to where he were. He blinked wildly around, before settling his eyes on Draco. Draco schooled his features to his signature smirk and looked down at Potter with disdain.

“If you could kindly snore a little louder Potter, it makes such a lovely distraction for those of us who are actually here to study. Not all of us gets Os handed to us on silver plates, you know”, he snarled with sarcasm. With satisfaction he watched Potter blush and even squirm a little at his words. Then suddenly a whirl of emotions crossed Potter’s face, too rapidly changing for Draco to distinctively make them out. He thought he saw anger at least, followed by something that seemed surprisingly similar to sadness (or even despair, but that could not be it, it just could not). There was a lot more in the mix, but his features finally settled on an angry frown and he jumped to his feet. He looked like he was going to start shouting, but then it was like all the air had been let out - Potter’s shoulders haunched, he sighed deeply. He turned away, not gracing Draco with any further attention. Instead he just muttered something to himself and made his way out of the library.

For a short while, Draco just stood there. Then he realized, he was gaping. Snapping his mouth shut, he turned on his heel to get back to work. Something bugged him though. Potter. Always Potter. Stupid, annoying Harry Potter with a bug up his arse or something. Draco tried to put Potter out of his mind, but he just could not make himself sit down or even keep still. He was never gonna get any work done. Bloody Potter.

Having made up his mind, Draco went out of the library, determined to find the bugger. Could as well corner him about hexing his friends at the same time.

***

Harry was moping. Moping and hiding. Or at least he was trying to hide, until Malfoy had interfered. Harry had wanted to shout at the git, make him feel as lousy as he did, but somehow he just could not open his mouth. He had felt all energy leave him instead. Previously, he would have loved to fight it out with Malfoy, but now it just felt empty. Just as he felt empty all the time. There was no point to anything anymore.

He shuffled his feet tiredly, walking without a purpose, without thinking that much about where he was going. When he looked up a little while later, found himself near the quidditch stands. No one was anywhere to be seen, so he made his way under the Gryffindor parts of the stand and sat down there in the shadows. He wished he could feel sorry for himself, but no, not even that. He felt absolutely nothing. Desperate to fill the emptiness with something, anything, he pushed down with his nails into the wounds he had made the night before. It was something, but not nearly enough.

If he just could cry, he might feel better. There was no tears in him though, only emptiness. He rolled up the sleeve on his robes to get actual contact with the wounds. He wished he hadn’t left the razor up in his dorm. Instead he tried to use his nails to make the emptiness go away.

***

Leaving the library, Draco looked around for Potter. First, he did not see the prat anywhere, but then he caught sight of him, walking surprisingly fast for someone who seemed to only be shuffling their feet around and walked all hunched over. Potter was heading for the quidditch stands, so Draco followed.

He saw Potter duck under them. Draco followed, but as he got there himself and saw Potter sitting just a little bit further in, he stopped. His mouth fell open and his eyes were round as saucers in his head, but he was unaware of that. He was unaware of everything but what he saw. Or thought he saw; Potter was sitting in the shadows after all. The whole feel of the situation was all wrong somehow. He could not figure out just what it was he was seeing.

Potter seemed to be just sitting there, hunched in on himself. He was tugging at his arm, in a way Draco had used to tug at his arm, at where the Mark was. Potter did of course not have a Mark. Why was he..? As Draco stood there, Potter rolled up his sleeve. Draco could not make out anything else though, but as he watched, Potter continued to lash out at his own arm with his nail. Feeling a little freaked out, Draco thought about just leaving. Potter was obviously busy. He could always corner the prat later. He should leave.

Instead of leaving, Draco’s feet took him forward. Potter did not react, he was as if unaware of Draco’s presence. When he reached Potter, Draco hunched down beside him. He made a sharp intake of breath as he saw Potters arm. It was filled with wounds, criss crossed all over and of different depths. He did not understand, who hadd done this to the bloody Savior? Everyone loved the prat! Everyone expect Draco, and he had not done that. So who would do it?

And why was Potter ripping at the wounds?

Without even thinking about it, Draco reached out to stop Potters raving hand. He took it in his own and held it hard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for possible TRIGGERS. Indications of self-harm, description of wounds.

Potter froze, as Draco took his hand and stopped its movements. He stilled and for a moment, they both just sat there. Potter staring at his feet, Draco holding his hand tightly. Draco could not say how much time passed. Could have been seconds, could have been hours. It felt like an eternity.

Slowly, Potter started to turn his head towards Draco.

“There’s nothing there” he stated, his voice dead. “I try and try to find something, but it’s all just filled with nothing.”

The Savior had lost it. Gone completely bonkers. Draco thought he should be happy about this but he was not. He did not actually know what he was feeling. He just knew he could not let go of Potter’s hand. He did not know how to respond either, so he just continued to sit there, crouched down beside the boy he had thought he hated. He met Potter’s eyes and suddenly his heart ached. There was something so completely forlorn about those green eyes that used to be so full of life. Potter had used to antagonize him in every way, he had been full with fire and stupid, reckless bravery. Now it was like there was no one home anymore. Draco felt like he just might cry, but Malfoy’s don’t cry. He took an even tighter grip of Potters hand instead.

“Malfoy.” Potter said. Something, Draco was not sure what, seemed to stir in those eyes, just the tiniest bit of… something. “You kissed me.”

“Ehrmm, yes. I… It was just… Well…” somehow, suddenly, all his explanations seemed void. Why had he kissed Potter, really? His hair and lips had not matched? Why had he cared? What had he thought? Draco knew he had had some really good, logical arguments, but right now they did not feel right. Right now, all that mattered was this here, right now, and making Potter stop looking so lost.

They looked at each other in silence. Suddenly, Draco just wanted to kiss the git again. Wanted to ignite in the other boy that passion he had felt the last time, he wanted to see that passion light those green eyes. Before he could think about it too much, he leaned in and tentatively put his lips to Potter’s.

First, he just held them there, against each other, for a second or two. Then he slowly started to move, ever so softly. He pushed their lips together a little more and opened his mouth to let his tongue out. He licked Potters lips with the tip of his tongue, and then he licked between them, teasingly trying to encourage Potter to open up. With a soft moan, almost like a small cry, he did. Draco let his tongue enter Potters mouth carefully, exploring cautiously, taking care to not make any hard or sudden movements. He was still grasping Potter’s hand with his right hand, now he put his left hand up to the back of Potter’s head. He felt Potter slowly relax somewhat and give in to the kiss.

Draco felt Potter’s hands come up against his back. Slowly, at first, but then their grip tightened as Potter started to answer Draco’s kiss with what felt like desperation. At some point, Draco tasted the saltiness of tears and was unsure whether they were his own or Potter’s.

Time ceased to exist. There was only Potter.

*

A sob brought time back. Potter was still kissing Draco with ferocity, but with tears streaming down his cheeks. Carefully, softly, Draco ended the kiss, but rearranged their positions at the same time so that he could hold Potter tightly. He tried to think; what was this? Why did he do this? Why was he not ridiculing Potter, taking advantage of his enemy’s weakness? Why did Potter suddenly not feel like an enemy anymore?

When Draco broke the kiss, Potter sobbed harder for awhile, and struggled somewhat to find Draco’s lips again. It did not feel right though, as Draco was not even sure Potter was entirely aware of what he was doing. So Draco held him instead, and soon Potter ceased all struggles and just sobbed heartbreakingly in Draco’s embrace.

He gave up trying, for now, trying to figure out what was going on. Instead he just held on to the broken boy, trying to be there without words. Trying to mend the wounds that was deeper than the once he had seen on the boys arm. Trying to be like balm to a soul apparently being torn apart by something Draco could not decipher.

*

After some time, Potter calmed down in his lap. Draco did not let go though. Without speaking, they moved their positions somewhat, so that Draco sat with his back against a post and Potter was laying down between his legs with his head against Draco’s heart. They sat there in silence as the day darkened.

***

He was laying in Malfoy’s lap. He heard the steady beat of Malfoy’s heart, as his head rested on the other boy’s chest. He could feel Malfoy’s hand, softly and tenderly stroking his hair with ever so slow movements.

Malfoy had seen his arms. He had seen him tear at the wounds.

Malfoy had kissed him again. Then, he had held him close as Harry had cried like he had never cried in anyone else's presence before. He had only cried like that, cuddled up alone in the dark. Never had anyone held him in that way.

And now he was laying in Malfoy’s lap, almost asleep. It was still early fall so the evening was warm. Still, they had been here for hours, Harry could tell from the position of the sun low down on the horizon. Soon it would be time for evening tea and then curfew.

Harry didn’t want to get up though. Malfoy didn’t seem to be in a hurry either. They would have to go back inside soon though.

He tried to summon that courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor. He tried to figure out something to say, to sit up and look Malfoy in the eye. Some part of him was afraid of what he would see. Malfoy hated him, he knew that. Malfoy should have laughed at Harry, when he found him, made public his shame. He had not though. Why had he not, if he really did hate Harry? Why had he instead held him and offered comfort?

“Hrmmm,” Malfoy cleared his throat carefully. Harry stirred a little, but could not make himself look up. Not yet. He wanted to, but he was so tired. He just wanted to stay here forever. He did not want to know what he would see in Malfoy’s eyes. Even if there was no hate, there would be questions. Questions Harry did not know how to answer.

Malfoy moved his left hand carefully down to Harry’s left arm and touched it ever so lightly. “Do… Do you need healing?” he asked, hesitance apparent in his voice. “I’m no healer, but I do know some healing spells,” he continued. Harry was thankful he did not even ask if he wanted to go to the hospital wing. He slowly shook his head as an answer; he did not want any healing. He did not deserve any healing.

“Are you sure?” Malfoy sat up some now, angled them carefully and with his hand took a soft hold of Harry’s chin and tilted his head so that their eyes could meet. Harry tried to look away, but Malfoy just calmly held his chin and waited. Not knowing what else to do, Harry met his gaze. Had Malfoy always had such calming, gray eyes? They were almost silver and Harry felt as if he could drown in them and stay safe that way. Looking into Malfoy’s eyes, he felt that everything might somehow be okay yet. Someday.

Lightly, Malfoy brushed their lips together. “I really think you should let me have a look at your arms,” he said. Harry felt tears form in his eyes, he did not think he had any left, but apparently he was wrong. These were a different kind of tears though. He sat up slowly, still not able speak, and brought his wounded arm up for Malfoy to have a look at.

***

As Potter sat up and moved so that Draco could look at his arm, Draco made an effort pulling himself together. Potter had tears in his eyes again, and it would not do for Draco to loose his cool right now. Gingerly, he took Potter’s arm in his hands. It was all slashed up, covered in wounds of different sizes and in different stages of healing. Some were already scars, some so new that the bloody crust covering them was still soft. Draco had seen worse, when the Dark Lord had taken over the Malfoy Manor, but he had never been as heartbroken by a sight before as he was now.

The strong, unbeatable Savior. Stupidly brave, The-boy-who-lived-twice. Future Auror, killer of Dark Lords and other things that go bump in the night. Goody two-shoes Golden Boy. Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. Broken. Lost. Helpless against the worst enemy of them all - himself.

Draco wanted to cry, but instead he healed the boy-wonders slashed arm. Then he stood up and held out a hand to his enemy.

“Come now. We have to get back, its time for evening tea. You need to eat something to make up for the loss of blood.”

Harry reached up and grabbed his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

They split up just after they got inside, before they run into anyone. The walk up to Hogwarts had been silent, but not awkward. Harry was just trying to figure out what this whole thing was. What actually had happened. They stopped briefly before separating, and turned to each other. Harry felt he had to say something, at least.

“Thanks,” the word felt inadequate, but it was the only one he managed. In answer, a small smile formed on Malfoy’s lips. Not the smirk he was used to seeing, but a genuine smile - although tinged with a little bit of sadness.

“Anytime,” Draco’s voice was gentle and soft. He lifted his hand and gave Harry’s chin a small stroke before turning and walking away. Harry stood where he was for a moment, just letting himself feel the memory of the touch and Malfoy’s smile for a little while longer.

*

“Harry! Where have you been mate?” Ron’s concerned voice greeted him as he stepped into the Gryffindor common room. For a moment Harry felt irritated, why should he have to report all his movements? Did he not have the right to some privacy? Then he looked at Ron however, and saw the worry clearly written on his friend’s face. Immediately, he felt the guilt as a gush in his stomach and his heart clenched. He had been such a lousy friend for a long time now. He really could not understand why Ron and Hermione bothered to even speak with him anymore.

“I was just out walking. Clearing my head. I guess I lost track of time,” the lies came easily enough, even though they increased his feelings of guilt. He schooled his face to put on a sheepish smile and hoped it would put an end to any more questions.

“Okay,” Ron did not seem to buy Harry’s answer, but he let it drop anyway. “Hey, did you hear about the Cannons?” Ron asked instead, apparently trying to get Harry to stay and socialize. Harry guessed he really should. He had been avoiding it too many evenings and he actually felt somewhat better than usual this evening. All thanks to Malfoy, who would have guessed that to ever happen?

He made a non-distinct response that Ron could interpret as a no as he sat down on the sofa, next to his friend - leaving him in the middle with ‘Mione on his other side. Encouraged by this, Ron dove into a lengthy tale about how the Cannons Seeker had almost - but not really - caught the Snitch. Hermione looked up from her book and smiled at Harry before continuing to read.

After discussing Quidditch for awhile, Harry found himself engaged in a game of wizard’s chess against Ron. Seamus and Dean cuddled nearby, and he wondered when that had happened. He felt a twinge of guilt again, for having been so absorbed in his own misery that he apparently had no idea what had been going on around him. Seamus and Dean were not his closest friends, but they still were his friends, and they even shared a dorm. He should have noticed as it apparently was no news to anyone else.

All in all, the evening turned out to be a better one than he had had in a long time. Later, when turning in for the night, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow - which was a first for him since they had returned to Hogwarts.

***

Draco, on the other hand, was not that lucky. Returning to Slytherin, he was once again greeted with looks of derision from most of his so called friends. He tried to tell himself that it was all due to them being hexed, but he just were not able to make himself believe that anymore. He had deep down known all along that the only real friends he had left in Slytherin was Pansy and Blaise, but it had been easier to pretend that they were all hexed than to face the knowledge that he had fallen from grace in the eyes of the rest of his peers. As his family had lost their reputation, so had he. Without it, only Pans and Blaise remained.

Or, at least Pansy. Blaise had been avoiding him lately, but he guessed that he only had himself to blame for that. He had gotten too caught up in avoiding the truth, making up unbelievable explanations instead. No wonder even his real friends had started to doubt him and that those on the fence had chosen the other side. He would have done the same in their shoes.

Not paying anyone any attention, he went to his dorm. He drew the curtains shut and sat down on his bed. He had some serious thinking to do. The Plan was good - he knew that - but maybe his execution of the Plan needed some revising. Also, avoiding certain uncomfortable truths about his own standing within the hierarchy in Slytherin, had been dangerously stupid. It was definitely time to make an additional Plan.

Then, there was Harry. Potter. No, Harry. It was Harry now, at least in his thoughts. He could not think of the other boy as just Potter anymore. What should he do about Harry? He had not wanted to push him for answers, he had clearly been so fragile, but that did not mean that he never would. Potter had been his enemy, but he was Harry now. To his surprise, Draco found that he cared. To his surprise, he found that he not only wanted to know how to help the other boy, he needed to. His heart ached with ferocity as he thought about the sight that had greeted him under the Quidditch stands, and as Harry had brokenly sobbed in his arms.

He did not know how, he did not know why, but he felt deep in his soul with certainty that he could not let Harry destroy himself. Draco might have gotten him to feel better momentarily, but he had known broken people before. They were not mended in one day.

When Sunday morning arrived, Draco was still sitting on his bed. Plan concerning his fellow Slytherins in place, he had spent most of the night thinking about Harry. He had tried to make plans on how to pursue helping him, but there were too many open variables. What and why being the essential questions, but not easily answered. Thus his first step - and thus far only - was to get Harry to open up to him.

***

Although Harry had slept well, he awoke the next morning to the familiar sense of hopelessness and doubt. Had he really found comfort in the arms of Malfoy of all people? Harry remembered breaking down and attacking himself there under the stands and then suddenly there was Malfoy. Or was there really? Somehow, he was not so sure anymore. It had seemed real, yesterday. Today, it was all a haze. It did not seem likely, that Malfoy would have taken care of Harry like that.

Had someone used polyjuice..? No, that was even less likely. If someone wanted to get close to Harry using polyjuice, they would not chose the form of Draco Malfoy. They would chose Ron or Hermione - or even Neville, Luna or Ginny would all be believable to fit that theory. Draco Malfoy was not. Therefore there was, as Harry could see, only two options.

One: it had really been Malfoy, and he had taken care of Harry just in order to find his weakness and then get to ridicule Harry for it in public.  
Two: Harry was finally loosing his mind completely and had hallucinated the whole thing. Why his mind would have made up Malfoy, he could not say, but if he had gone completely off the rails, then that made just as much sense as anything else.

Harry chuckled humorlessly to himself. Either way, he was screwed. He figured that if it really had been Malfoy, he would not wait long to make the whole thing yesterday public. Probably, he had already shared the story with his fellow Slytherins, and now the word was spreading. If, on the other hand, there were no rumors spreading of Harry’s meltdown, then option two was the valid one.

Sighing, he made his way to the bathrooms. Taking off his pajamas he suddenly stared at his arms in chock. There was not one wound left. Not even the tiniest of scars on his arms. He remembered Malfoy healing him. If he had wanted to ridicule Harry, he would not have healed him - the wounds would have been the be proof of Malfoy’s story. Could Harry have healed himself, as he hallucinated that Malfoy did it? Healing spells were not his strong side, even though he did manage them. To get himself healed this well though… Crazy Harry was marvelous with healing spells? He once again chuckled morosely to himself as he finished dressing.

*

Steeling himself, Harry entered the Great Hall in the company of Ron and Hermione. His friends had greeted him cheerfully this morning, but soon they were frowning again. Harry felt a twitch of anger towards them - what, he was not allowed to feel a little blue once in awhile? So maybe that once in awhile had been a little more often lately, but still. He had been all social with them yesterday, had he not? He tried to put on a smile though, for their sake.

There was no whispers, no stares - expect the usual once that he still got - when he entered the Great Hall. Maybe a third of the students were currently there, eating breakfast. Harry’s eyes drifted to the Slytherin’s table. They soon found Malfoy, sitting there between Parkinson and Nott, with his trademark smirk on his face. As Harry watched him, he looked up straight at him. Harry expected a smirk, a laugh, maybe even some pointing, but what he definitely did not expect was the flash of a smile that he was greeted with.

The smile was over as fast as it had appeared on Malfoy’s face, and then he was once again turned toward Nott, saying something. It did not seem like it involved Harry though… Had he imagined the smile? Oh Merlin, he really was bonkers! Harry felt the knot in his stomach twist and harden.

Crazy people do not know they are crazy, right? And he knew, so then that meant that he was not be crazy? On the other hand, that meant he really thought of himself as not crazy, so then he could be crazy? Of course thinking that he was crazy because he was thinking he was not crazy because he really thought he was crazy… Oh fuck this! Harry felt like tearing his head of before it exploded. Knowing or not knowing, crazy or not crazy was not relevant anymore - he felt like his head was full of bees, swarming around and stinging. If that was not bonkers, what was?

*

Ginny walked over to him, as he sat down at his usual place at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey you,” she said with a small smile. Harry looked at her and tried to smile in reply. He thought he did a fairly good job at it. After the war they had had a long talk about their relationship, and mutually agreed that they were better off as friends. They had not had so much time to hang after they returned to Hogwarts though, and Harry did miss it. Ginny was always so much fun to be around.

“Wanna go flying today?” she asked. “You know I was made captain for the Gryffindor team. It’s really lousy eight years aren’t allowed to be in the teams, but I’d really like to go through some basic stuff with you. You know, you could be my adviser.” She looked at him with a bright smile. One look at Ron gave it away though - this was one of their plans then. The “get Harry out and about”-plan. Harry felt like he should be getting irritated again, but on the other hand, it had been a long time since he had been flying. Flying always seemed to cheer him up. So, even though he felt patronized, he agreed to join Ginny for some flying and strategizing after breakfast.

Flying with Ginny was nice. Not thrillingly exciting, nor did it get his heart to race as it had used to. It did get his mind off other things though, and he did enjoy it. It was… Nice. Talking strategies with Ginny was also nice. He had always enjoyed her company; she was smart and quick to laugh. She was a good friend to have. She did not prod him about how he was doing, she did not ask if he ate enough nor show concern in any way. She just flew with him and talked about Quidditch.

For a moment, he felt regret that they just had not worked out. She would have been a great girlfriend. He felt that she understood what he needed more than even Ron and ‘Mione; in a way his closest friends never could. Regretfully, what he needed was not her as more than a friend. Neither did she want him anymore. Their romantic relationship was in the past, and there it would stay. Ahead of them lay years of friendship, he hoped, but nothing more.

Returning inside for lunch, they hugged briefly before parting ways - Harry to sit with his friends, Ginny with hers. Harry was not feeling great, but as his moods went these days, this was a good day. Considering he had lost the last of his marbles and was hallucinating about Malfoy, that was. With that thought came the cloud of despair that seemed to be his permanent companion these days.

The word about his meltdown yesterday still was not out, so that confirmed theory number two then. He really was seeing things. He wondered if Neville’s parents would be any fun hanging around with… He wondered if his friends would come visit him, as Neville visited his folks. He wondered what the food at St Mungos was like. And how was the beds? Did he get two pillows, or would he have to make do with just one? That would give him a sore neck, which would be just great - not only would he be insane, he would suffer from a tension headache all the time too!

“Harry, really?!” Hermione’s exasperated voice carried through his glum thoughts. He felt disoriented for a second, then his gaze focused on her in question. She looked downward so he followed her gaze. He felt his face go all read - apparently he had started to put some bacon on his plate and gotten so caught up in his thoughts that he just had continued. Now there was a small mountain of greasy goodness on his plate - and nothing else. Ron chuckled beside him. “Mate, I know ‘Mione has been trying to get everyone on the ’eat more vegetables path’, but don’t you think you’re taking the protesting a little too far? I mean bacon is good and I know I’ve said I could eat it for every meal always, but still. That is a lot of bacon!”

Harry just blushed and started to pick at the crispy stripes like he really had planned to eat this much. As he did, he felt even the remnants of his appetite leave him. He faked a smile for his friends though, and forced himself to eat at least some before pushing his plate away. He was thinking about trying to eat some bread too, when his eyes drifted over around the Hall and found Malfoy. This time the git was leaning close to Parkinson, sharing a laugh. Harry frowned against his will and felt like all the bacon would come up the same way it had gone down. Suddenly, he just had to leave.

*

He was heading for the Gryffindor tower when he heard someone call after him. He ignored whoever it was and increased his pace instead. He heard the voice call him again, but just walked on. He did not feel like talking to anyone right now. Just as he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and had spoken the password, he felt a hand on his shoulder though, and reluctantly he turned around. He found himself looking into the calm gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. It just figured. He had seen the git in the Hall, and now he was hallucinating again. He had had it. It might just be a figment of his imagination, but it still would learn to leave him alone.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you bloody ponce!” he shouted and quickly stepped inside to the Gryffindor Tower and closed the portrait hole behind him.

It was strange though, just before the entrance closed, he saw that the figment had a hurt look on its face. Did hallucinations have feelings? And had he hurt them?


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for possible TRIGGERS. Cutting, thoughts about the feelings when cutting, thoughts about the high of cutting, severe anxiety.

Draco had been observing Harry that day - he did not think that Harry had noticed it though. Harry had seemed out of sorts at breakfast, but then the Weaselette and him had gone out flying. Draco had wanted to follow them, but to his chagrin he could not - he had to spend some time making reparations with his fellow Slytherins. Thus he had spent the morning feeling them out, especially Nott who he had gathered was his main concern at the moment.

Come lunch he was focusing on repairing his relationships with Pansy and Blaise. He figured that would be quite easy, especially Pansy had never even removed herself from being his friend. He just had to sooth her worries and prove to them both that he had not lost his mind. Or at least that he had gotten it back; that he only had experienced a minor lapse of judgment for a time.

Busy talking with his friends, he almost missed Harry’s entrance. He looked better, at least compared to the morning. He refocused on socializing for awhile, and next he knew he saw Harry leaving with a strange look on his face. He realized that he could not put this off for any longer; his other plans had to wait for awhile. He made his excuses and left the Great Hall to walk after Harry.

He caught up with him just as he was about to enter the Gryffindor Tower.

*

“Leave me the fuck alone, you bloody ponce!”

The words rang in Draco’s ears. He felt his jaw drop in astonishment and for a moment he just stood there, looking at the closed portrait. What had just happened? He felt something akin to anger stir inside him. After what had happened yesterday, how dared he act like Draco was some kind of stalker? Draco turned on his heel and almost run into the Weasel and Granger.

“Malfoy!” it was almost interesting to see how fast the color rose in the Weasels face. Granger just quirked an eyebrow at him, calmly looking at him as if Draco was some foreign insect whose behavior she considered might be worth studying.

“Lost your way? Need a map on how to find the dungeons, Malfoy?” the Weasel snarled angrily. Draco was kinda surprised - an almost worthy insult. Who would have thought the redhead was capable of such?

“Just keeping an eye on things Weasel,” Draco drawled in response, careful to put his trademark smirk in place. “Not all are bound to just their home territories, you know. Some of us actually want to be familiar with the whole area of our surroundings, not just the ones that are the closest,” with that he marched by them, not giving them time for a response.

*

When he reached the dungeons, his anger at Harry had calmed down. He had found out yesterday that the Savior was a broken soul, and as such he should have anticipated this - opening up to Draco yesterday had gotten Harry in full “hedgehog mode” today - anxious about revealing his perceived weaknesses to anyone, let alone to someone like Draco.

Living through the summer before eight year had started had been hard, but it had also thought him a lot about broken souls. He would have to thread carefully, but his decision from yesterday remained. He would be there for Harry. He would help. He just had to make Harry see that he could rely on Draco - no matter the past.

***

After the portrait swung shut, Harry almost run up to his dorm. He felt like he could not breathe. His throat constricted and he felt sick to his stomach. He felt like he had been sucker punched. All he could think about was getting to the razor that he had hidden in his trunk and the sweet release it always promised. It would help him breathe again, he knew it. When he reached the dorms, he found that they were not empty though. Dean and Seamus was there, sitting on Seamus’s bed, talking. They nodded at him when he entered, seemingly not noticing that Harry was hanging on to his sanity only by a thread.

He could not stay. Of course he could have closed the curtains and put up the spells to keep others out, but he knew that if he did that, he would have to face some questions later. It was only mid day after all, saying he was already tired would raise more worries than soothe them. Also, he really needed to be alone.

Thus, he hastened to his bed and took out the blade from under the mattress, making care that the pair on the other bed did not see what he was doing. He pocketed it carefully and almost run out. In the common room he run past Ron and Hermione, not pausing to answer any questions. He just had to get out, he had to. He had to get somewhere quiet where he could sit down and let the razor help him breathe again.

*

Somehow he made it down all the stairs and outside. If he had passed anyone, he could not say. At least no one had stopped him. He ran further. Without thinking about it, he headed to the Quidditch stands again, knowing they would be empty. Although he knew that what had happened yesterday had only been a figment of his imagination, he chose to hide under the stands again today. He did chose the Ravenclaw stands though, maybe that would be enough to keep his hallucinations at bay.

He wasted no time however. Having made sure there was no one there, he sat down and took the razor from his pocket in the same move. Sighing with relief, he immediately put it against the skin on his left arm. Yesterday the arm had been full of old scars and healing wounds, now it was like a blank paper - ready for new marks.

As soon as the blade drew its first blood, he felt the relief wash over him and his breathing calmed down. Soon, when one cut had multiplied to several, he started to feel the bliss. Harry knew about drugs, but who needed them when he had the razor. It was the ultimate high, at least for him.

*

He awoke from his daze awhile later. He could not help gasping, when he saw what he had done to his arm. In one go he had made enough new wounds to make up for all those healed yesterday. Never before had he made any cuts this bad. Never before had he lost himself in the high of cutting like he had done this time.

He was losing it. He needed help. He knew it, but who was there to help him? The Dursley’s would probably just give him pointers on how to cut deeper. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore - they were all dead. Ron and Hermione… No, they would not understand. Also, it would not be fair to them. They had helped him with the horcruxes, and they had stood with him in the war against Voldemort. He could not ask them for more. Everyone asked him for more, all the time. He would not do that to others, least of all to his friends!

All he had to help was a hallucination of his long time enemy; Draco Malfoy. A hallucination that once again had crawled under the stands to him and now stood there looking at him with tears in its eyes.


	8. Chapter Eight

Draco could hardly breathe. He had not even known Harry was there; he had only wanted to go for a walk to clear his head. He had headed for the stands to think about what had happened there yesterday, when he had thought he saw something under the Ravenclaw stands. He had not been ready for the sight that met him there though.

Harry sat there, just looking at his arm. The arm that Draco had healed yesterday was now a bloody mess. That was not the worst though. He felt tears rise in his eyes at the look on the other boy’s face. The helplessness and loneliness that stood to read there was as clear as day to Draco. How come no one else seemed to see it? Carefully, he crouched down beside Harry, reaching out to take his hand.

“Get away from me!”

Harry almost tumbled backward in his hurry to get out of Draco’s reach.

“You’re not real. Get away, get away! You’re not real!” the desperation in Harry’s voice cut into Draco’s heart. What did he mean though? Why would he think that Draco was not real? What should he say to get him to calm down?

Thinking fast, he figured that for now, words would just be in the way. For now, what was important was getting Harry to calm down. So he followed him, taking a firm grip of the panicking boy’s hand and then drawing him close. Just holding, nothing else. He did not want to force himself on Harry, but he needed to calm down. So he held on and did not let go even though the other boy clearly tried to get free.

The struggle did not last long though. Soon Draco felt Harry starting to tremble in his arms instead and then he held on to Draco just as strongly. As Harry cried in his arms, Draco let his tears for the other boy fall silently and without notice. After awhile, they both calmed down and Draco released Harry to have a look at his arm instead. The cuts were really bad this time. At least a couple were deeper than before, and although Draco would be able to close them, he knew he would not be able to heal them completely. Either Harry would have to go to the hospital wing, or there would be scars. Draco already knew which option Harry would choose.

After having healed Harry’s arm as well as he could, he sat down again, taking Harry in his arms as he had yesterday. Pliantly, Harry complied. For awhile, they just sat there.

*

“This is so my life.” Harry stated suddenly. “The only one who actually cares about me, is a bloody figment!”

“A figment? I’m not sure I understand,” Draco asked, feeling confused.

“Yeah. You know, a figment of my imagination. I’m going completely bonkers, you see, and you’re my next step. You’d think I’d hallucinate that my parents would come back to me, or maybe Sirius, but no, even my hallucinations make no sense. So thus, I hallucinate you.” Strangely, Harry seemed very pleased with himself after making that statement. As if he had resigned himself to his fate and decided to be happy about it.

“I’m a hallucination,” Draco repeated Harry’s words and not as a question this time.

“Yes,” Harry answered happily. Knowing what little he did know, Draco gathered it was not that big a surprise that Harry thought him a hallucination. How would he convince him that he was real though?

“I’m not a hallucination,” he said.

“Of course you are,” Harry answered, with a voice like he was talking to a small child. Draco sighed. “How can I convince you?” he asked. Harry just looked at him, smiling, and lay back down in Draco’s arms. Minutes went by as they sat there in quiet, while Draco thought.

He had an idea. It would not go over well with his fellow Slytherins, but he could deal with that. What was important now, was Harry.

“Well,” he started, startling Harry back up to attention. “If I’m a hallucination, then walking with me to have dinner in the Great Hall and kissing me in front of everyone won’t be a problem, will it?”

For a moment, Harry just looked at him, eyes wide. Then he blinked. “Kissing you? In front of everyone?” he asked.

“Well, if I’m not real, no one will see anything,” Draco smiled at Harry. If Harry agreed to this, he really would have something to explain to his house-mates, but at least then Harry’s doubts about reality would be quelled. At least about the reality of Draco. He smiled in what he hoped was a encouraging way.

Suddenly, Harry seemed to come to a decision - to a Gryffindor, “act-first, think-later” decision. He grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him up. Hand in hand they headed back inside and to the Great Hall.

*

Just before entering the Great Hall, Draco stopped Harry. He just had to make a couple of things clear.

“Harry, I know you think I’m not real, but can you humor me for a small moment and pretend I’m real?” Harry furrowed his brow but nodded in agreement, so Draco continued. “Now, if I am real, then you know there will be some commotion after this. I just want you to keep in mind that no matter what happens, I will be here for you afterward. In fact, I will be here for you weather you want me to or not. I will not abandon you. I’m not trying to make you look bad or foolish or anything like that. I know we have our history, but when you soon find that you are wrong and I am right, I want you to not think about what has been, but only about the fact that I will help you.”

Draco felt kinda foolish for that long statement, but something in him said he had to try to make this clear to Harry. Which was not that easy, since he was not that sure himself as to why he suddenly truly was trying to help his old enemy. He only knew that the words were true. His old enemy was broken and somehow Draco just could not stand by and do nothing. He just knew he would have to save him, somehow.

Harry looked at him like he was nuts and opened the doors to the Great Hall, dragging Draco inside by his hand. After a couple of paces he stopped and turned towards Draco, firmly gripping the back of his head with his left hand, and his chin with his right. Then they kissed.

***

Hermione was arguing with Ron again. As usual, the argument was about Harry. Hermione thought Ron should “have a talk” with Harry. About feelings or whatnot. Ron, on the other hand, was of the opinion that Harry would tell him, if something was bothering him. Sure, the bloke had been kinda testy lately, but what could you expect? He had offed You-Know-Who just a few months ago. Purpose of life fulfilled at the tender age of seventeen, of course there would be a period of adjustment. He was sure Harry would soon come around though, when he realized that now the whole world was open before him. There was absolutely no need to get into any kind of touchy-feely nonsense.

If it was serious, Harry would say something. Of that, he was sure. If he did not say anything, then he just needed some time to himself to figure things out. That was how he, Ron, would do. In addition, he had tried to appease Hermione’s worries by making careful questions, and Harry had said everything was okay. And if he said it, he meant it. That was like guy-code, was it not?

Across from him, Hermione was lecturing on about the importance of talking about feelings. Ron had tuned her out some while ago now. When she suddenly got all quiet, in the middle of a rant, and just stared at something that was behind Ron, Ron looked up though. Hermione did not interrupt her rants easily.

“Now do you believe me? Now do you believe that there is something seriously wrong with Harry?” Hermione sounded choked up. Confused, Ron turned around to have a look at what not only Hermione, but everyone else too, he now noticed, was staring at.

In the middle of the Great Hall, Harry was busy pushing his tongue down the throat of Draco soddin’ Malfoy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and all the kudos!! I really, really appreciate them! It makes me want to write even more when I know that someone actually reads what I write :)

Kissing Malfoy in the middle of the Great Hall was freeing. Harry knew that it went against everything everyone wanted from the Savior, and that made it even more intoxicating. He felt like he could go on doing this for the rest of his life, just tasting Malfoy. He felt like he could drown in Malfoy. He wanted nothing else than to let the moment sweep him away, leaving everything else behind. If he were not already mad, he thought he could loose himself this way.

For a moment, all was bliss.

*

Soon though, reality came calling. First, there had been nothing but Malfoy. Then a whisper intruded. That whisper soon turned into thunder. That thunder turned into the voices of his fellow students. Those voices turned into the realization that he really was kissing Draco Malfoy.

He was real.

He was not a hallucination.

He was real.

Real.

Harry was kissing Malfoy. Draco friggin’ Death Eater Malfoy.

Harry felt his knees starting to buckle under him. He also felt a hand gripping him firmly by the arm, another planted at his lower back, keeping him steady. Malfoy’s hand.

“Are you alright?” Malfoy sounded concerned, even though his voice was steady and calm. Harry looked up and their eyes met. In the midst of the chaos that had erupted in the Great Hall, looking into Malfoy’s silvery eyes was like a lifeline to Harry. He had not even realized he had started to hyperventilate. As their eyes met, Harry got his breathing under control again. He felt Malfoy move his hand in small circles on Harry’s back.

Malfoy.

Death Eater Malfoy.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione and Ron making their way towards them.

“You can do this. I am here for you, you know that. I will support you, I will not leave you, and I believe in you. You can do this.”

Harry turned his gaze to Malfoy again. Looking into Draco’s eyes, he knew it was real. He did not know what it was, this something between them. He just knew it was real.

For a moment, he felt strong. “I know,” he answered and for the first time in what felt like ages, the small smile that formed on his lips was sincere. Draco reached up to softly stroke the corner of his mouth.

“It will be better if I talk to them alone, okay?” Draco looked a bit torn at Harry’s words, but then he accepted them with a small smile of his own. “If you need me, I’ll be down here for evening tea,” he said before letting go of Harry and turning towards his own chaos that awaited at the Slytherin table.

*

Feeling stronger than he had in a long time, Harry turned to face his friends. Ron looked slightly green; like he was about to get sick all over the place. Hermione was harder to read. She just looked determined, but about what Harry could not say. Harry drew a deep breath. He really could use something to eat, as he had already lost a lot of weight lately (and it was not like he had had a lot to take from either). He would rather not have this talk here though, so sighing he gave up on the chance of eating anything, and nodded to them to follow him and turned to walk up to the Gryffindor Tower.

*

They sat together in front of the fireplace in their common room. No one seemed to know what to say, so they just sat there, uncomfortable. Finally, Hermione - of course it would be ‘Mione, that really did not surprise Harry - spoke.

“Harry. Ron and I, we are worried about you,” when she included Ron in her statement, the redhead flinched, but then seemed to gather himself together and nodded in confirmation. He did not seem inclined to take to words himself though, leaving that to Hermione.

“You’ve been acting really strange lately. Moody, angry and you’ve been isolating yourself a lot. Not only from the lower years and students from the other houses, but from us, your closest friends. Aren’t we your friends Harry?” there was a sad sort of accusation in her eyes that Harry detested because it immediately woke the feelings of guilt in him. He hasted to confirm that they were his very best mates. Still, the sadness did not leave ‘Miones eyes and Harry felt like squirming underneath her gaze. He knew what was still to come.

“You kissed Malfoy,” apparently Hermione decided to take a page from Ron’s book and chose bluntness this time. There was no accusation in her words though. Some emotions were there though, and Harry could tell they were strong underneath the her calm exterior. He just could not say what they were. He figured he would find out soon though, for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he answered her - it would have been idiotic to deny it, he had after all kissed Draco in front of everyone - sweet Merlin, had there been teachers present as well? Why had he not thought about that before now? As it was Sunday, some might have been missing, but still. Could he get detention for something like this? They were not fond of public displays of affection, or whatever they called it, after all. Harry felt himself starting to panic, and had to force those thoughts out of his head. Right now, he had to face Ron and Hermione.

“Why?” this was Ron asking; he had finally found his voice then.

What should he answer them? That he had really thought he was hallucinating and that Draco had not been real? Yeah, he could imagine that answer really calming them down. He frowned to himself. They were his best mates, after all. He should be able to tell them everything. It was just that he knew what they had been through for him, with him. They deserved to live normal lives now. Not to deal with his mess of a head. Their problems should be of the kind that dealt with getting their NEWTs and what to do after that, maybe minor quarrels as lovers. They should not have to deal with Harry going bonkers because he could not deal with people wanting things from him.

They were his friends, and because they were his friends, he would shelter them from certain truths. Kissing Draco would need some explanation though. He did not know what this thing with Draco was, but he knew it made him feel better than he had felt for a long, long time. As his friends, they should be happy for him then, should they not?

“I…” he started. Then he had to pause to draw a deep breath before continuing. “I kinda like Draco now. Malfoy. I kinda like Malfoy.”

He was met with stunned looks. For awhile, he thought everything could still turn out okay. Then the color slowly left Hermione’s face. She got up on her feet, he saw that she was unsteady. She was slowly shaking her head at him, as if in disbelief or wanting to shake out the words she had heard him say from her mind. Her expression turned into shattering disappointment. Then she turned and run up to the girl’s dormitory.

*

The common room was quiet. For awhile, Harry did not dare to look at Ron. Ron did not seem to be in a hurry to speak either. Finally, Harry could not take it anymore though, and looked up at the other boy. Ron would not meet his eyes, looking into the fire instead. He seemed to notice Harry looking though.

“Mate, you’re as close to me as a brother, you know that. Closer, in many ways,” he finally said, still not looking at Harry though. “This though, kissing that git. Liking that git. Harry, mate… I don’t know. What are you thinking? After all he’s done? Calling ‘Mione and me and you all those names through the years? Breaking your nose? Almost killing Dumbledore? Letting those Death Eaters into Hogwarts? Being a bloody Death Eater himself, for Merlin’s sake?” at the end of the rant, Ron was almost screaming. He was still not meeting Harry’s eyes though.

Harry did not have the time to think of an answer though, before Ron continued, his voice back to normal now. “Harry, I just don’t know. I want to support you, I want you to be happy, I really do. I know ‘Mione want you too as well. But this is Malfoy we’re talking about. I just don’t know. I…” his voice broke and he paused for a short while before continuing. “I need some time, mate. I need to think. I just can’t deal with this right now. I really wish I could assume this was a bad joke, but I guess I just know that’s not the case, is it?” his voice sounded tired and broken, but still with a small hope to it at those last words. Harry could only shake his head in response though, too shocked for words.

As Ron got up to leave, Harry just sat there. They were his mates. His closest, best friends. And they did not even listen to his explanation. Not that Harry knew what sort of explanation he could have given them, but they did not even ask for one. They did not even give him a chance to stumble through some of the feelings Draco had awaken in him. He had decided not to tell them about his own brokenness, but even if he had decided otherwise, they had not even wanted to give him a chance.

He did not know how long he just sat there, staring into the fire. His house-mates came and went, some tried to speak to him but after a look at his face they all left him alone.

Harry had never felt this abandoned and absolutely shattered before.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the feedback <3
> 
> *
> 
> I actually do not remember there ever being a mention of having evening tea in the books... Well, it suits my needs, and I am of the opinion that everyone should have evening tea. So in my fics, there is such a thing :)

Draco felt a bit worried, leaving Harry alone like this to face his friends, but it was Harry’s wish. Draco just hoped Harry would come to him, if there was any problems. Right now, he decided to face his own challanges - his fellow Slytherins.

He looked over at them. Pansy looked worried, Blaise had that careful expression that told the unobservant that he did not care one bit about anything. To Draco it was clear though that he in fact was keenly following the situation, waiting for Draco’s move. Those two were his friends though. It would be Nott and his followers, that he would have to win over. Nott wore a calculating look which did not reveal much, as usual. Draco knew though, that one wrong move on his part and all the others would fall in line behind Theo. On the other hand, the right move on Draco’s part and a miscalculation on Theo’s, would put Draco back on top in the Slytherin hierarchy. It all would depend on the words they would exchange in a matter of moments.

Draco made sure his face showed nothing but calm confidence and self assurance as he walked up to them and sat down in a seat beside Pansy and facing Nott. He took care to fill up his plate without saying anything, patiently waiting for Nott to make the first move. He was just about to start eating, when Nott spoke up.

“So…” he drawled. “Kissing the enemy again, I see?”

Smiling inward to himself, Draco was satisfied. Nott had opened up with just the question he had hoped for. Careful not to seem defensive or eager to explain himself, Draco turned toward Nott with a deliberately set expression of mild curiosity as to why Nott might be asking something like that. “Enemy?” he repeated Nott’s term, the question clear in his voice.

“Potter. You know, the ‘Savior of the Wizarding World’ and ‘Killer of the Dark Lord’” the sarcasm and anger was clear in Nott’s voice. That was his mistake. Nott had apparently decided to play this counting on the emotions of anger many Slytherin’s felt toward Harry. Draco would play it counting on their ambition and desire to be on top - or as close to it as possible. Knowing the game were not won yet though, Draco continued his show of mild confusion at Nott’s words.

“The war is over, Nott,” he said, speaking as if to explaining something to an oblivious child. “I don’t know about you, but I believe in cutting my losses and move on. I believe in accepting what has happened and making my new allegiances thereafter - I, for one, will not be kept back by old mistakes.” He hated having to make it seem like he only cared about Harry due to him being the hero that he was to many, but this was how he needed to play it out to Nott. He needed to make it seem like it was a strategic move on Draco’s part; putting himself in the good graces of the hero of the winning side.

By the look on Nott’s face, his words had been understood. Meeting his eyes squarely, Nott weighed his response. Finally, he nodded quiet acceptance and went back to his food. Darco had won this game. It was an ongoing one, as always, but for the moment he was on top. Nott’s silence let him know though, that he was not done. He’d backed down, but only to wait for a new opportunity to strike.

*

Draco spent the rest of the evening “holding court” in the Slytherin common room, just like in old times. Pansy and Blaise by his side, the first visibly supportive - and to Draco, even though probably not to the others, relieved by Draco’s return to power, as to speak - and the second seemingly in a teasing and joking mood, but just as with Pansy, Draco knew that he now had his old friend’s full support back.

Harry did not come down for evening tea. Neither did the Weasel or Granger. Draco hoped that meant they were all too busy bonding or something. He also hoped that Harry had had something to eat; the Golden Trio had left the Great Hall before Harry had eaten any dinner. There was nothing Draco could do at the moment though, just wait. At least they would have Potions together the next day.

Later in the evening, only the eight year Slytherins remained in the common room.

“You know, Draco, if I’d known you where bent that way, I just might have made a move on you myself years ago,” Nott’s voice was slightly teasing, with a hint of seriousness.

Startled, and instantly annoyed with himself to allow it to show on his face - if only for a moment before taking back the control - Draco looked at Nott with a arrogant smirk. “I’m afraid you do nothing for me, Nott” he drawled. “You should know by now that I’m carefully selective.”

“Yes,” Nott replied disdainfully, apparently they were now up for the next round - this one played out for a slightly smaller audience though. “You know, I’ve always wondered about you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you kiss anyone before. Well, except when dear Pansy here accosted you in our younger years” The last part was said with a loathsome laugh - it was common knowledge, after all, that Pansy had wanted more than friendship from Draco, but Draco had turned her down. It was also common knowledge, that even if he had, he did care for her in his own way - after getting past their different desires, their friendship had grown even stronger. Nott knew that his words would anger Draco on Pansy’s part.

Before he could make the mistake to let his anger take control, he felt Pansy take his hand and squeeze it gently. Thus helping him remain in control, and letting him know that she did not need him defending her. She understood the game Nott played.

Knowing his lack of sexual activities had been a topic of gossip and discussion before, he knew he had to say something on the subject. He had known for years that he was not like his friends when it came to the matter of sex and relationships. He did not understand their obsession with it. First he had thought that he was just developing later than his friends, and then came sixth year and all that mess with the war, and he told himself that he just did not have the time. Although, even then, a part of him had tried to tell him he would have had the time if he really had desired it, and others might have sought the comfort of another person’s closeness at those difficult times. For him, that just had not held any interest. A good wank every now and then, and he was satisfied. The thought of involving someone else just seemed to him to be way too much of a bother.

That was, until Harry. He could not say that he wanted to rip the other boy’s clothes off and have his way, but there certainly was an interest on Draco’s part. Also, he had to admit, to himself at least, a good deal of his thoughts had been occupied with thinking about what sexual partners Harry might have had. That was new for him though. He had never cared about that sort of things before. Harry was different, somehow. When he thought about it, he gathered Harry had always been different to Draco, even when he had been Potter. Hate or love or whatever you might call it, there had always been a connection between them.

Nott was waiting for a reaction from Draco though, so now was not the time for introspection. Now was a time for giving an answer that would win him the game and shut Nott up for at least a little while.

Smirking and adopting a haughty look, Draco looked straight at Nott. “That’s because I’ve never met anyone else with such a hot arse to fuck before”, he really hoped he had expressed that sentiment in a sufficiently natural way. Sexual remarks and innuendos really was not his strong suit. From the look on Nott’s face, he was at least momentarily shocked by the words coming out of Draco’s mouth - as was all the other eight years. Draco might be known for his hateful and cruel taunts, but sexual references had been seriously lacking from his vocabulary.

Taking the opportunity of the silence, he rose to his feet and declared he was turning in for the evening. He was not sure if he had won this round of the game, but by leaving the room and the unfamiliar conversation topic while everyone else was still to shocked to speak, he made sure it was at least a draw.


	11. Chapter 11

All is dark around him, but he can still feel the walls closing in on him. It is getting harder to breathe. Distant voices full of malice drift through the darkness.

“Where’s the boy?” echo through the clearest in the most hateful voice of them all. It closes in on Harry, getting nearer. Ahead of him the darkness shivers as someone stomps down the stairs above him. He feels the dust covering him.

“Where’s that useless boy?” the voice is now shouting. Harry just want to hide away, but there is nowhere to go. The stomping increases, now accompanied with an ugly laughter. Harry is choking on the dust coming down. He has to get out, out of the darkness, but if he does, the owner of the other voice will find him. Of course, he will find him anyway, it is not like Harry’s cupboard is a secret.

There is nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. He will always be there, in that small cupboard under the stairs. He knows he will never escape.

Above him Dudley’s laugh is becoming manic, as he jumps up and down. Soon he might crash through. Uncle Vernon’s voice draws nearer, Harry does not know what he has done this time, but by the sound of his uncle’s voice, it is bad. Even in the darkness, he can feel the cupboard spinning, he can feel it crushing him as the space becomes so small he fills it all. The air is now nothing but dust.

Harry screams, but there is no sound.

*

Harry lies in his bed at Hogwarts, covered in sweat. He knows now that he did in fact escape the cupboard, but it still does not feel like it. He still feel trapped, unable to get free. He still feel haunted.

Trembling, he lies there, afraid to fall asleep, but not wanting to get up and face reality either. So he remains where he is, thinking. He had sat in the common room until all had been quiet around him; everyone else had gone to sleep. Only then had he made himself move and go to bed. Ron’s words kept playing on repeat in his head, and he kept seeing the expression on Hermione’s face just before she had run away from the common room - from Harry.

Harry was not so sure reality was any better than his nightmares.

Of course, in reality, there was Draco Malfoy.

Draco, whom he had hated for so long.

Draco, who had been the first one to take care of Harry, without questions or asking for anything.

Draco, who now had cost him his friends.

Of course, that last part was not actually so much done by Draco, as it was a choice made by his friends because of Draco.

Reality had Draco, Draco was comfort, Draco was confusion.

At least Harry was used to his nightmares by now. They seldom brought anything new these days.

*

At some point, Harry must have fallen asleep again, this time without dreaming. He awoke by someone shaking him lightly. Groggily he opened his eyes, trying to focus.

“Hey, Harry. Wake up!” the voice was saying. Harry grunted in response, reaching for his glasses. He found them and the shape beside him turned into Seamus. He was looking slightly worried. Seeing Harry was awake, he relaxed a little. “Hey man, you’ve overslept. First class is starting in ten minutes. You’ve got Potions right? I’d hurry if I were you. Strange that Ron didn’t wake you up mate.” The last line was said with a slight frown. Harry’s stomach lurched though. Ron had known Harry had Potions first thing, but still had not bothered even waking Harry.

Harry knew he was responsible for getting up in time himself, but still. Ron had said he needed time to think, but that that included not even waking Harry, when he knew how bad Harry often slept and thus how hard it at times was for him to wake in time… It suddenly felt like a lead weight had settled in Harry’s stomach.

Then the reality of Potions starting in ten minutes settled in. Snape was going to kill him. Jumping up from bed he was suddenly a flurry of motion, throwing on his robes and trying to get his tie on somehow in the same motion. Drawing his fingers through his hair, he guessed that would have to do. He knew he looked a mess, but there was nothing he could do. He just could not be late.

***

Draco was worried. Harry had not been at breakfast. The Weasel and Granger had been there, throwing looks at him like they aimed to kill. No Harry though. And now, he was late to class. Snape might have been on Harry’s side during the war, but personally they were still like oil and water. Draco could tell from the look at Snape’s face that he was really looking forward to Harry’s late arrival.

Strangely, Granger was there even though Harry was not. She had not taken her usual place though, instead she was seated next to Longbottom - that was one person Draco would not had pegged for taking NEWT level Potions, but apparently he needed it to supplement his career choice in Herbology. He really was in need of Granger’s help, but still, it was odd.

Dread settled in Draco’s stomach, as he realized that it all probably had to do with him. The golden trio had had a falling out yesterday; their talk had clearly not gone well.

Just then, Harry did turn up. Not late by much, but late enough for Snape to start with taking twenty points from Gryffindor and giving Harry detention for the next evening. Draco hardly heard any of that though, he was too shocked by the look of Harry. He looked like he had slept in his clothes, although the sleep part was in question - by the dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he had been awake for ages.

Before Harry could make any decision as to where to sit down, Draco got up and just took him by the sleeve of his robes to lead him to the place beside him. He usually sat alone in Potions, as he did not want any distractions. He needed Os in all his subjects, but Potions was his passion.

Getting up to Harry deserved him a dark look from his godfather. Snape did not say anything though, but Draco knew he was being watched. Snape might be favoring him - and the other Slytherins - compared to the Gryffindors, but that did not mean he could get away with too much. For now though, he was only being observed as Snape probably was trying to figure out the reason behind his action.

As Snape droned on, they sat quietly taking notes. After the theory behind the Pepper-Up potion had been gone through, they started to make the preparations for making it. As they gathered the ingredients, Draco could discretely fix up Harry’s robe and hair somewhat though. Not to mention the tie. Luckily, Draco had a wast array of charms to straighten out creases and tying knots, not to mention practical skills in dressing. A Malfoy was never allowed to look sloppy.

He tried to ask Harry how he was doing, but he just shook his head in response. He met Draco’s eyes briefly though, and from that he could tell Harry was beyond tired and that he had been correct in assuming a falling out among the golden trio. For a moment, Draco really wanted to put a hex on Granger and the Weasel - had Harry not suffered enough already? And they were supposed to be his friends! Hexing Granger - and later Weasel - would probably just make things worse though. At least he would have to keep his calm until he had actually had the time to talk to Harry.

They worked together silently, Draco making sure to give looks that promised murder to anyone who even looked like they might think of bothering Harry in any way. He caught Granger looking at them a couple of times, her face strangely blank of emotions. Draco did not say anything, as he had promised himself, but he could not help his anger from showing in his face. Both times Granger startled and a mixture of guilt and anger fleeted over her face before it settled down again to nothing.

After Potions Draco had Muggle Studies, while Harry headed of to Transfiguration. They did not have the time to talk, but Draco made Harry promise to meet up with him outside the Great Hall before lunch. That was the best he could do for the moment. He hoped Harry would be at least somewhat okay - he figured it was too much to ask for to hope he would be fully okay.

*

Pansy walked with him to the Great Hall. As he saw Harry waiting for him, he told her he would meet up with her again later. She nodded and to his great surprise, greeted Harry shortly, before entering the Great Hall. It might not have been an heartfelt hello, but for Pansy to actually acknowledge a Gryffindor without an insult… Well, it was quite a big gesture on her part, and went to show Draco, once again, that although the hierarchy within Slytherin might be a fickle thing, her friendship was true.

Harry seemed startled by her hello, but nodded courtly in reply before turning to Draco. For a short while, they just stood there, facing each other.

“Want to go grab something from the tables and go sit and eat outside somewhere?”

“Sure.” Harry’s reply was short, but the small smile he gave Draco made up for it.

***

They found a secluded bench where they sat down to eat their lunch. Eating in quiet, next to Draco, was strangely comforting. There was no pressure to keep up discussion, no constant clamoring surrounding them.

After awhile though, the quiet caused Harry’s thoughts to run amok inside his head. Ron’s words from yesterday started to shout at him in repeat, but somehow it was Hermione’s quiet reaction and abandonment that hurt the most. At least Ron had stayed to say something, no matter how hurtful the words had been. ‘Mione had just up and left. He had never thought Hermione would leave like that, without saying why or talking about the matter first.

With Ron it was different. Ron had always been difficult, he had always had his tantrums and later they had always made up. That was just how they were. Although, in this case, Ron had not had a tantrum. He had been quite calm in fact, before he, too, left. Harry did not want to think about that too much. He wanted to think that at least Ron behaved like he always did, and would still come back.

While Harry’s mind was busy going through everything, Draco sat quietly beside him. When they finished eating, he took what was left and put it beside them for the house elf’s to collect. Hermione would be furious of that, Harry knew, but she was not here now, was she?

“I’m sorry.” Harry felt his stomach lurch at Draco’s words. He was apologizing? Had he realized that Harry was too much to handle? Had he wanted to come out here, to say that he took back his words from yesterday? That he would not be there for Harry after all?

Something of Harry’s thoughts must have shown on his fact, because Draco leaned toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he repeated before continuing, “for all the years before now. I would want to defend myself, but there really isn’t anything I can do about the past anyway. I do not plan on walking around apologizing for what has been for the rest of my life, but I do want you to know that I AM sorry.” He paused for a short moment. “And right now, I am especially sorry for it as I gather it’s the reason Granger and Weasley… seem to be quite… out of sorts at the moment.” His voice was steady, even though he did seem to hesitate at his choice of words a couple of times.

Harry looked at Draco, his eyes reflected the sincerity heard in his voice. He did not know what to say. His instincts told him to just lean close and say that all is forgiven, but he wanted to give Darco’s words and his response the serious consideration that they deserved. Finally, he spoke up though.

“You’re not the only one to blame, you know. For the past, that is. I judged you from the moment we first met, without giving it any more thought, and treated you thereafter.” He smiled apologetically, “And I’m sorry for that. When it comes to Ron and ‘Mione… Well, they do hate you, but I don’t think you should apologize for being the reason why they reacted like they did and… did what they did.” Harry’s voice staggered somewhat on the thought of his friends abandonment. Draco’s calmness helped him to keep his thoughts focused though, to finally say out loud what he barely dared to think. “No matter how they disagreed with… us, they should have at least listened to me. Not just… left.” At the last word, Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean just left?”

“Yeah well, they asked why about, you know, our kiss, and then well, I just said… Well, that I don’t hate you anymore,” Harry felt his face blush when thinking about his actual wording, but he just could not say that out loud to Draco, at least not yet, “and then they, well, left. ‘Mione did, anyway. Ron took the time to remind me of why to hate you first, before he followed suit.” Harry could not help some bitterness to shine through at his words.

Draco closed his eyes for a second, with an expression like he was in pain. When he opened his eyes again, he made sure he was looking straight at Harry when he spoke. “I guessed it was bad, their reaction, but I had thought it meant arguing and fighting. Not this. I’m really sorry, or no, actually, I’m really angry at their behavior.” Harry met his eyes for awhile, but then he had to turn away as his emotions got too intense. “Yeah…” he muttered, mostly to himself. He just did not know what more to say. The situation sucked, but what could you do?

Quietly, Draco put an arm around Harry’s shoulder. They sat like that for a little longer, until they had to head back inside for their afternoon classes.

*

Harry felt better, after the lunch and talk with Draco. Not that they had talked that much, but just telling him about ‘Mione and Ron had felt like a weight lifting from his shoulders. Also, the more he thought about it, the more he appreciated Draco’s words of apology, and respected it. It could not have been easy to say. Thinking about their shared past, he could not help but feel real regret and wonder what could have been if he had not dismissed the blond at first sight. Yeah, he had turned out to be a bully, just like he had judged him to be, but what would have happened if he had not made that judgment? If instead he would have taken Draco’s hand, back then when they were only eleven, and given him a chance to maybe become something else?

Feeling a twinge of sadness, he could not help but feel the importance about Draco’s words about not going to walk around apologizing for the past. They could both have done differently, but the important thing was to move on from that. If only ‘Mione and Ron would give it even a chance.

He shook away those thoughts, so that he would not get sucked down by anxiety again. His thoughts wandered on to what had not been said. They had not even graced the subject about what this thing between them was. They had kissed, but what did it mean? Draco had said he would be there for Harry, but as what? Did the kiss mean anything more than momentary comfort? Were they friends? Kissing friends? Friends with benefits? What did Draco want from Harry, in return for his support?

Also, if the past was in the past, what was Harry’s feelings for Draco now? What did he want? Did he have the right to want anything? Was Draco’s support not enough? Should he not just be happy with whatever he got, and just give him what he wanted in return. Whatever it was. It was not like he had not done that before. Those nights last summer, when he had gone out looking for some comfort from just about anyone he could find. Looking for a way to escape his own thoughts and the emptiness inside him.

He had always known that it was not real. He had known they had not cared for him, only for his body. But for those short hours, he had been able to pretend otherwise. That was until it was all over and he had been left even emptier than before.

What if that was what Draco wanted too? Harry had trouble believing it would be exactly the same as those strangers, but surely Draco wanted something. And then, sooner rather than later, when he got bored of Harry, he would move on and Harry would once again be left to pick up the pieces of himself.

When he had gone out all of those times, looking for just about anyone that would have him, he had at least known what would happen. He had been able to pretend otherwise, but he had still always known.

Sighing to himself, he tried to put the depressive thoughts out of his head. As always before, he found that once there though, they just would not leave.

Draco was a Slytherin after all. He had to have some sort of agenda. If it was just to have Harry’s body, Harry knew he would give it. Draco could have anyone though, anyone who’s body was not covered in scars. Like Blaise Zabini. He had seemed quite cozy with Nott too the other day. Parkinson seemed to be glued to him at times. Draco really had a lot of options. Maybe he was just tired of Slytherins, Harry thought darkly to himself. Maybe he had already gone through them all, and was now moving on to the other houses.

Harry went through the rest of the days classes just on routine. If spoken to he answered, forgetting immediately afterward what the question had been about.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry ate his dinner sitting in his usual spot at the Gryffindor table. He saw Hermione and Ron enter the Great Hall, but when they noticed him, they opted for taking food with them on a couple of plates and went to eat elsewhere - like he and Draco had done for lunch.

“They’ll come around eventually,” Ginny’s voice came from his left as she sat down on the empty place where Ron would usually sit. She touched his arm lightly, with a sad smile on her face. “They’ll come around, and then they’ll regret ever acting like this, ‘cause it isn’t right you know. I love Ron, but he’s being a jerk, and Hermione’s not acting any better.” She said the last with a frown, before going on. “I can’t say I’m overly happy with… my replacement,” she winked at him jokingly at the term, “but you know, I really just want you happy again. I haven’t said anything, but I’ve been worried, you know. If that git makes you happy, I’ll swallow all the bad words I’m thinking about him.” There was an edge to her voice to her next words though. “If he on the other hand ends up making you even more miserable… Well, let’s just say that I might be as Gryffindor as you are, but I do know a dirty spell or two that will make him regret the day he was born.”

At the end of her tirade, Harry could not help but smile. He put an arm over her shoulder and squeezed lightly. It was good to know that at least one of his friends still had his back. Ginny stayed at his side during the remainder of the meal and soon they once again turned the discussion to their shared passion: Quidditch.

*

After dinner, they decided to go together to the library and study for a little while. Harry knew that Ginny was abandoning her friends for him, so he made a point of telling her that she did not have to. Doing that, he soon came to realize, was a mistake. It instantly triggered her fiery temper, telling him in no uncertain terms - and not in too quiet terms either, as she really did know how to use her voice - that he was her friend too, and she had been abandoning him for too long now. Her other friends could wait, now she would spend some time with Harry. She also went on to point out that did he really think she would be so charitable and spend her valuable time studying in the library with him, if she did not want to?

Feeling sheepish, Harry stopped his arguments and they went to look for a couple of empty seats at a corner table. They had just started to work on their respective essays, as someone cleared their throat next to them.

“Are these seats taken?” Harry and Ginny looked up at Draco, Parkinson and Zabini standing behind him looking slightly uncomfortable. Before Harry could even consider a response, Ginny smiled broadly and invited the Slytherins to sit down.

As they were in the library, it was natural to be quiet. There were some awkward glances in the beginning, but soon they were all busy focusing on their own studies.

*

When it was time for evening tea, they all started to gather up their things and leave. When Ginny dropped her quill, Pansy automatically reached down to pick it up. Realizing what she had done, she blushed as she gave it back to Ginny, who thanked her - causing the already blushing Slytherin to blush even darker. Who would have known Slytherins were even capable of blushing?

Stepping out of the library, Draco held Harry back as their friends headed to the Great Hall.

“That was nice,” the blond said with a smile, before adding “and just a little bit strange” letting the smile turn into a smirk. “I actually thought Pans would explode there at the end, when she realized she’d picked up a dropped quill for a Weasley!”

Harry chuckled. It had been both nice and strange. “Gryffindors and Slytherins sitting at the same table for hours, without any accidental curses flying around? I guess miracles actually do happen.”

They started to walk slowly towards the Great Hall.

“So, at least one of your friends are okay with us, then?”

Us. That one, short word took Harry back to his dark musings from earlier. What did Draco want with him? What was this, thing, they now had? Was there really an us that referred to Harry and Draco, and if there were, what did that us imply?

Realizing Draco was waiting for a reply, he nodded with what he hoped looked like a genuine smile. Draco did not seem to buy it though, but he refrained from making any comment right away.

“I was looking for a place to study the other day, and stumbled on this comfortable, out of the way alcove on the fourth floor. Do you want to take some tea and scones and go up there to talk?” Draco almost blurted out, just before they reached the Great Hall. Dread settled in Harry’s stomach. He tried to tell himself that Draco just said ‘to talk’, and it was an alcove, not a room, but still he had said it was out of the way… What if he wanted more than to just talk? More than just kissing? What if after, Draco would just leave? The last question, was the one that scared Harry the most. He knew he would go with Draco though, no matter what.

***

Draco could tell that something was bothering Harry. He hoped that getting away, just the two of them, would get him to talk about whatever it was. When they entered the alcove he barely got the tea and scones put down on a small table though, before he found himself with his arms full of Harry. For a moment he felt a little bit stunned, but when Harry’s lips met his, he responded with pleasure.

When Harry’s hands found their way inside Draco’s robes, he started to get uncomfortable though. Carefully, he took a hold of Harry’s hands to stop their exploring.

“What are you doing?”

“This is what you want, isn’t it? You can’t be this nice to me for nothing. You’ve gotta want something in return! I figured you’ve gone through all the Slytherins and are going to start fucking your way through the rest of us now. And guess what? I’m just so pathetic that I’m gonna let you!”

Draco was stunned at Harry’s outburst. Without thinking, he put up a silencio around them though.

“I don’t want to… fuck you,” he finally said, the last words feeling strange in his mouth. This really was not a topic he was comfortable with. At his words, Harry froze for a second, before blushing violently and tearing himself away from Draco, looking like he was thinking about running away. As a stray thought, Draco wished there was a door on the alcove, that he could lock. He really did not want to chase after Harry, and uncomfortable or not, he guessed this was now something they had to talk about.

Slowly, he approached Harry, who had turned towards the wall, forehead pressed against it and his arms up to cover his head. As Draco put a hand carefully on his shoulder, he flinched. Draco noticed his shoulders was shaking lightly and though he was crying. As he slowly caressed Harry’s shoulder, he turned around though, and Draco saw that he was shaking with suppressed laughter. Not a joyous one though, rather it was almost manic and close to hysterical. As Draco was trying to figure out what to say, Harry spoke.

“I’m sorry, I really should have known. You’ve seen my arms, you must’ve guessed that’s only the start. You must’ve guessed I’m just as ugly everywhere,” at this Draco started, but he did not have any time to comment before Harry continued. “Really foolish of me to think you’d actually want someone like me, ain’t it? I just figured with the kissing, that that was what you wanted in return. But yeah I guess I should have gathered that the high and mighty Draco Malfoy, ‘pure of blood’ and living in a friggin’ mansion, would never want to lower himself to be with someone like me. I guess you’re stuck with the Slytherins then, aren’t you? Or are the pure bloods in other houses okay for you? Why’d you even pretend then that you might like me? Wanted a kiss just to live a little dangerous, taste a little bit of dirty half-blood lowlife, I guess? But why continue? Why say you’d be here for me? What else is it I can give you in return? Money? I guess not, the Malfoy’s got plenty of that, right? Just a hold on me then - if you need anything later, you can always threaten to expose what you know. That’s it, isn’t it? Yeah, that’s what a Slytherin would do!”

Draco just stood there, shocked into silence by Harry’s words. He knew he had to somehow stop him before he had worked himself into a full-blown hysteria. How would he do it though? This really was not his area of expertize. He was hesitant to speak right now, as he figured he really had to be sure of what to say, when he did get a chance to speak. Instead he reached out towards Harry again, taking a firm but careful hold of his chin and lightly forcing him to look Draco in the eyes. He forced himself to stay calm, just looking at Harry until the other boy calmed as well. Then he let go and instead took Harry by the shoulder, leading him to sit down, back against the wall. Giving him some tea and scones, and taking some himself as well, he sat down facing Harry.

“I guess we should talk.”

Harry just shrugged noncommittally in response. Well, at least he was listening now and calmer than just a couple of minutes ago, Draco thought.

“I guess I can understand why you’d think I wanted something in return for saying I’d be here for you. And I guess I do, just as everyone does for everything they do. You do something, and wish for a reaction, something, in return. It’s not like you think though. Actually, I’m not entirely sure what it’s like myself,” Draco drifted of a little at those last words. Harry was keeping his eyes firmly on his tea the whole time. Draco forced himself to continue, to try to explain what he did not fully understand himself.

“I’m not planning on blackmailing you in the future. I guess it would be a Slytherin thing to do, you’re right about that. That’s not the reason though. I’m…” he found his thoughts to be drifting off again, as he struggled to find the words to explain and reassure the other boy. He took a deep breath before he continued.

“You are beautiful you know. I really hadn’t thought about the scars. I can’t say I’m happy you have them, because I don’t like that you’ve hurt so much that you’ve felt that hurting yourself that way eased the emotional pain. They don’t make you less beautiful to me though. In fact, you’re the first one I’ve even considered I might want to be intimate with some day. I have not, as you put it, ‘gone through all the Slytherins’ and I have no interest whatsoever to fuck anyone else either.” At that, he quieted, giving the words time to sink in.

They sat in quiet for a short while, before Harry finally looked up at Draco.

“You mean, you’ve never…” he looked almost flabbergasted. Draco just shrugged. “I’ve just never felt any interest before.”

“But… Why not? I thought you could have pretty much anyone you wanted”

“I guess, I don’t know. I just, I… You know, when my friends started to get interested in sex and stuff, I just didn’t. I kinda thought there was something wrong with me, you know. When Pansy kissed me, back then when she wanted more than friendship from me, it wasn’t like it was all bad, it was just strange. And intrusive, when she pushed her tongue into my mouth.” Draco find himself frowning at the memory. “Then, when she wanted to go even further, I almost freaked. Our relationship was really strained for awhile, but, well, now she’s moved on and she’s like a sister to me these days.”

Draco paused, before continuing, feeling sort of uncomfortable with making these personal revelations, but as he knew things about Harry that no one else knew, he guessed it was only fair to talk to him about this at least. Also, in some way he guessed he really wanted Harry to know. Maybe even to understand, even if he did not understand completely himself.

“First I figured I was just late, you know. In developing those kind of needs. But I do enjoy a good wank every once in awhile.” He said that last thing with a smirk and wink. “I just never wanted to include another person before. It just felt to be too much of a bother. But then there was you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Draco felt himself blush slightly, and almost got angry at himself for it. “I really thought I hated you, you know. Then, some times when I was having a wank, you’d pop into my mind. That had never happened before. That I had thought about someone, during, you know… But suddenly, you were there. And man, that made me hate you even more, at first.” He smiled apologetically at Harry. Harry did not look too bothered by it though. Instead, he regarded Draco with a thoughtful expression.

“The more I hated you, the more you were in my thoughts though, and then you started to pop into my head during wanks even more often. Then I started to think about wanking at times when I saw you. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t just wanking anymore. Although, I wasn’t really sure what it was. I never thought about actual intercourse. But I think I was getting there. And then I found you, under the stands the other day. And suddenly I realized that I really don’t hate you anymore.” He smiled at Harry now. “I really can’t say what I want from you, you know. I just… This really isn’t something I know a lot about. I just know that I want to, I need to, in some way, be there for you.” He was really blushing deeply by now, but forced himself to continue a little more. He felt that this was really important for Harry to know. “I do know though, that I do not want sex from you as some sort of repayment. For the first time ever I might be interested in it, that’s true. But if we ever do, uhmm, have it, it will be because we both want it. Not because you feel you have to repay me.” He felt his blush settle now, and looked straight at Harry.

“I am here for you, you know. If you need someone to talk to. If you need someone to be quiet with, or to do something fun with as a distraction. And I do like to kiss you. It’s nothing like kissing Pansy.” The last thing he said with a big grin, before once again turning serious. “You should know though, that even if I’ll be here for you, I cannot carry you. I’ve learned that the hard way. When someone is, well, broken,” he looked carefully at Harry when he chose that word. Harry flinched, but Draco could see that he did not disagree, “the only one that can put them back together is themselves. I’ll be there, by your side, if you’ll have me. I’ll point out the pieces, if I see them, but you’ll have to put yourself back together.”

He looked at Harry with care. He had flinched a little, but his face was settled now, and Draco saw that he had understood. He did not like it, and he might not even agree fully, but he did understand Draco’s point of view. And Draco thought that, at least for the moment, Harry did believe him too.

They sat quietly for awhile, eating and drinking. Then Harry looked up at Draco, with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Have you ever heard the term demisexual?” he asked.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for possible TRIGGER in the form of anxiety and sort-of self harm (or however I should put it, I don't know. I'm unsure on how to write warnings actually, and what to warn about. If you think I do not make good enough warnings, please tell me and I try to make them better. If you think I make unnecessary warnings, well you can tell me about that too, but I think unnecessary warnings are a safer choice than not enough warning.)
> 
> Also, for those who didn't notice in chapter eleven: Snape is alive. I don't know how, I don't know yet if he'll be a significant part in this story, but he is alive. Why? Because he just is. Because I love him. Because he just can't be dead, okay? :)
> 
> Last but not least, once again I give my warmest of thanks to everyone who leaves kudos or comments!!

Going to bed that evening, Draco had a lot to think about. Some part of him had still been afraid that there was something wrong with him, as he had not - before now - been at all interested in sex or relationships. What Harry had told him though, confirmed that he was not in any way abnormal. He was not even the only one; there were others like him. Other demisexuals. Demisexual. Draco repeated the word to himself in his head, tasted it on his tongue. He decided he liked it.

Learning about demisexuality had felt like he finally got a piece of a missing puzzle. Nothing had exactly changed, but still he felt more whole now than he had before. He did not know any other demisexuals, but still the knowledge that they existed made him feel less alone.

All his thoughts were not as positive though. There was also Harry, and the whole other part of their conversation. Draco knew Harry had wished that they would have somehow defined what this was, that they had. He wanted to know if they were friends, or if they maybe were starting to be something a little bit more than that.

Draco did not want to put a name on it though. The thought of it almost made him panic. He had to be the strong one, and he really wanted to help Harry, be there for him. He also wanted to be sure that he did not promise feelings that he might not yet know were true. He did not want to promise a future, not yet. He wanted to be sure first.

This whole thing was so new to him. He was still getting used to actually, maybe, being interested in someone as something more than a friend. Still, he did not want to just jump in and make promises about feelings that he felt for the first time ever. Yes, he could admit to himself that he could see himself with Harry, as a couple. He was even starting to actually think about having sex with Harry.

That was the main problem though. Actually, there was two.

First of all, Draco Malfoy did not share. Now, the logical part of him told him it was unreasonable of him to think Harry should have saved himself for Draco. He knew that. The thing was, his feelings did not listen. He had noticed Harry’s expression when he had realized Draco had never had sex before. The expression had said it all. Harry not only had had it, he had had it several times. The thought made Draco flinch. There clearly had been others than the girl-Weasel.

Being jealous of past lovers was pointless. He had no right. What was in the past, should stay in the past. Just like he wished that all the bad things that was in his past, would stay there. He could not help himself though. His mind kept going back to wondering how many lovers Harry had had, and who they were.

Then, there was the second issue with Harry having past lovers. Draco did not like to be not good at something. He did know the theory behind having intercourse, but as it was, he had never actually done it. Sure, he knew what he liked to do to himself as he wanked, but there was no guarantee that Harry would like exactly the same. If they ever got to bed together, it would be Draco’s first time, but Harry would have others to compare to. Draco was loathe to admit it even to himself, but the thought of him fumbling around, not actually knowing what he was doing, made him sick. He just could not be anything but the best. How could he be the best though, at something he had never done before?

The jealousy coupled with the fear of not measuring up was just too much. He just could not make promises to Harry about feelings and a future together. Draco felt absolutely miserable as he tried to think his way through this all. He told himself it was not logical to feel like this.

His feelings just would not listen to his logic though.

***

They still had not talked about what it was that they had together. It bothered Harry, but for the moment, he was okay with it. He wished that they would soon talk about it, but as it was right now, he guessed he could understand Draco’s reluctance to. He thought about what Draco had told him, about never having had sex before. Nor had he ever been in a relationship with anyone.

The fact that Draco was demisexual and that Harry was the first person ever that he was interested in was almost overwhelming. It was flattering, but Harry could not help but wonder what he had done to deserve it. Demisexuals did not feel sexual attraction until they had formed a deep emotional bond. Well, when thinking about it, you could probably say that Harry and Draco had shared an emotional bond since they were elven. Sure, most of that time the emotion was hate, but that old cliche stated that there was a fine line between love and hate, so maybe that was it then.

Harry wanted them to talk about what they had, what sort of relationship were developing between them. At the same time, he was scared shitless by the thought though. He just could not believe anyone would actually be interested in him for anything else than sex, and then it was the whole issue of his feelings. He knew he was an emotional mess. When able to think rationally, he feared that what if he was only latching on to the first sign of kindness and love he got?

Exhausted from the day, Harry fell asleep quickly.

*

The next morning, he managed to get up in time for breakfast. Actually, he was up a whole hour before breakfast even started. He did not remember the nightmare this time, just the feeling of no escape and something - or someone - haunting him. When he woke up gasping for air and realized there soon would be breakfast anyway, he decided to not go back to sleep. He felt tired, but that was nothing new.

Ron and Hermione were still avoiding him, both at the meals and in the classes they shared. Harry sat with Seamus and Dean at breakfast and lunch, while Ginny joined him again for dinner. He did not share any classes with Draco that day, so he just sat with whomever happened to be without a partner.

He did manage to meet up with Draco shortly a couple of times during the day. They did not manage to get any time anywhere private though, so there was no deeper discussions. In a way it was relieving, as yesterday had been quite an emotional storm. Harry was a little worried though, as he thought he saw an odd expression of worry on Draco’s face a couple of times when he did not know Harry was looking. He had no chance to ask about it though.

In the evening he had detention with Snape for being late the other day. Snape put him up to cleaning empty vials until late in the night. The task was tiresome, but mindless. It did leave Harry time to think. Way too much time.

There were a couple of things that kept bothering him about his discussion with Draco from the day before. He knew exactly what one of those things were, but he did not want to know, so he kept on studiously ignoring the subject. Instead he concentrated on the other thing.

It was something Draco had said only in passing. Harry just could not put his finger on what it had been, and it bothered him because he felt it was important. It had been something he had said when telling Harry he could not fix him, that Harry had to fix himself. Draco would just be there supporting him. That had been hard to hear. He just wanted Draco to pick up the pieces that was Harry and put him back together. He knew though that Draco was right. He did not want Draco to be right on this matter, but that did not change the fact that he was.

What was it Draco had said though?

“I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Suddenly Draco’s voice sounded in his memory. When he had told Harry that he could not carry him, just support him, he had said he had learned that the hard way. What had he meant by that? How had he learned it? What had happened? Now that Harry remembered what exactly had been nagging at him in his memory, he remembered too the shadow that had quickly passed over Draco’s face as he had said those words.

What was it Draco had been thinking about just then? Had he been broken himself? Or had he tried to help someone else and failed? Whatever it was, it was clear now, to Harry, that it bothered Draco. The shadow had told him that. Draco might have promised to be there for Harry, and Harry might be a wreck right now, but he could still at least listen, he thought. If Draco just wanted to talk about it. Maybe it would help. Harry decided he would ask about it, the next time they had a chance at having a private moment.

With that decided, there was just the other thing, that kept bothering him. The thing that he just could not allow himself to think about. He spent the rest of his detention cleaning out vials with a concentration rivaled by few. He just could not let himself think about anything else. He knew he would crash and burn if he did.

He also knew that he would think about it at some point. Sooner rather than later too.

*

That some point turned out to be the next evening. When he finally got out of detention and back to his dorm, he had just collapsed on the bed. The next day had gone by just as the one before, and even though they had had one class together, he still had not had any private time with Draco. He still felt that there was something bothering the blond. And there sure was something bothering him.

It was after the first DA meeting. The meeting in itself had gone okay, although it had been strange to hold it without Ron and Hermione there helping him out. They continued to avoid him. They were not the only ones either. There had been a lot more interest in attending DA at first, but after he and Draco had kissed so publicly, people had started to drop out. Of those who came, some where almost openly hostile, even though he had never even exchanged words with them before.

Those did not bother him so much though. It was the negative reactions of those he knew, that hurt the most. Ginny, Seamus and Dean were actually the only ones who seemed to be okay with it all, of the Gryffindors. Even Neville seemed to be a bit uncomfortable around Harry now, and that hurt more than he wanted to think about. Not that Neville was openly hostile, Harry did not think that would be even possible for the kind-hearted soul, but he was clearly bothered.

Neville had come to the DA meeting though, and helped Harry with the new ones. He had experience, after all. Ginny too had been there, which had been a relief. She had not been hesitant to bitch back in Harry’s defense to a few of the more hostile participants.

After the meeting, Harry had been tired, but not as exhausted as the previous days. As he went to bed, sleep would not come. Instead, the thoughts that he had managed to keep away pushed through his tired barriers.

Draco was a virgin.

That was not a problem, per say. The problem was that Harry was not. He really was not. Before the summer, he had not been that experienced, but then came the end of the war. He finally should have had some peace and quiet, but he had felt like the most wanted man in the wizarding world with people writing him about big, small and imaginary problems, thinking he was the only one who could help. Then there was those who did not even ask for his help, they just took it for granted. His presence would be demanded at memorials, event openings and trial hearings, and he was expected to give his opinion on an umpteen of matters.

So he had started to escape out to the muggle-world, looking to forget for just a moment. And he had, if not forgotten, then at least gotten distracted, for a few hours each time. He had been out more nights than he stayed in, last summer. He had never gone home without first hooking up at least once. He had never hooked up with the same person twice though. He did not even care to try to count how many men he had been fucked by that summer. How many cocks he had sucked.

He was thinking about it now though. He did not count them, but all those nameless faces, at most times faceless faces, just diffuse memories, floating by in his head. Countless encounters in dark alleys, some in a strangers bed that he then had sneaked out of well before morning.

Suddenly it felt like he still had all those men’s cum floating in his stomach and he wanted to throw up. He felt it dripping out of his arse too, he felt it drying on his chest and face. He felt himself choking on the memory of it all in his throat. Suddenly he could not take it anymore. Taking care to be as quiet as he could, he got out of the dorm and to the showers. When inside, he made sure to look the door and cast a silencio.

He went to the showers with the need to get clean. No matter how he scrubbed and turned the water ever hotter, he would not feel clean though.

Draco was so pure, untouched.

The water would not go any hotter now. His skin was turning red, but he did not feel it. He kept scrubbing. He used his nails and soon he was bleeding from several places. He did not notice though, and he still would not get clean. He had to though. He had to scrub all those other men’s cum of himself, if he was ever to be worthy of Draco.


	14. Chapter 14

He lost track of the time as he stood in the steaming hot shower, scrubbing himself bloody. When he finally managed to get a hold of himself again, he did not feel any cleaner, but exhaustion had nevertheless calmed him down. He turned the water ice cold, but the burn on his skin was still hot.

His skin was raw where it was not bleeding, and at some places even blisters started to form. As the pain caught up with him, he realized he had to do something about them. It was not only the pain, these were also visible in a way his other scars and wounds had not been. The blisters and hurt skin were all over him; face and hands included.

He tried to cast healing spells on himself, but although he managed to lessen the pain somewhat, he could not do anything to the blisters, scratches and redness. He had to get help.

There was only one person, he could go to. Only one who would and could help him, without forcing him to go to the hospital wing. Harry felt his stomach clench again, and he dry-heaved - he dimly remembered throwing up at some point, trying to get the feeling of all the old cum out of his stomach and throat. He was not worthy of Draco’s help. He was not worthy of his support. He knew that. He just had nowhere else to go.

He got up and dressed himself. His pajamas chafed against his skin, but at least not as bad as it would have without the spell he had managed to get right. As he silently made his way back to the dorm to get his map and cloak, he hoped he would not run into anyone awake. He almost made it. He was just taking his stuff from the trunk, when he was startled by a sleepy voice.

“Harry… mate, is that you? What’re you doing up?” Ron’s voice was heavy with sleep. Harry was not even sure he was really awake. He muttered something about going to the bathroom, apparently satisfying Ron’s curiosity as he was soon after snoring again. Harry felt his insides clench up from the emotional pain. This was the first time in days that Ron had talked to him. Harry knew Ron was probably not even really aware of talking to Harry, but still. He ached inside as the feelings of abandonment intensified.

*

After having put the cloak on, he made his way to the dungeons. The map showed him the password and soon he was looking for Draco’s dorm. He had not actually thought much about how he was doing this. What Draco actually would think about Harry just showing up like this. Harry just could not think of anything else to do. He had to get help with healing what he had done to himself.

For a short while, he just stood there outside the door to the dorm where Draco slept. For a moment he just let himself wallow in self-loathing for putting himself in this situation to start with.

He could not remain standing there though, and as quietly as he could, he opened the door and went inside. It was dark, but not pitch-black and he could make out the beds and the boys sleeping in them. Draco’s almost white hair was easily recognizable even in the darkness. Harry made his way over to him.

As quietly as possible, he pulled the curtains close around them, before removing his cloak. He really hoped Draco would not startle too much when awoken as he was not able to put up a silencio to stop any loud sound to wake the room’s other inhabitants. With great difficulty he managed to cast a lumos though. In the soft light he tentatively reached out to touch Draco’s shoulder, whispering his name at the same time. Draco did startle somewhat when he was awoken, but quietly.

“Harry?” his voice was leaden with sleep. Harry just nodded in response, unable to come up with a single thing to say as to explain why he was there. As Draco sat up in the bed, turning toward Harry, he suddenly jerked with shock and his eyes went wide.

“What did you do?” shock sounded in his voice, but he still kept it to a whisper. If Harry had not already been red from the burning water, he would have blushed. As it was, he just could not make himself meet Draco’s eyes, and just shrugged - his voice just would not cooperate.

Closing his eyes for a moment, while drawing a deep breath, Draco stood up beside Harry. When he opened his eyes again, they were calm. He gestured to Harry to show him the damage and did not even flinch when Harry turned to face him so that he could get a better look. At the same time he lifted his hands as well. He did not move to show what he was hiding under his pajamas though - the thought of suddenly stripping for Draco, even in a non-sexual manner, was just too humiliating.

Draco took his wand from the nightstand before turning back to look at Harry. Gently touching first his face and then his hands, he healed them. Then he stood there, before Harry, looking like he was arguing with himself for a moment. Then, he seemed to come to a decision.

“I gather you’ve got those elsewhere too,” it was more a statement than a question. This time, with his face healed, Harry’s blush showed.

“Yeah, but that’s okay. You don’t need to…”

“Don’t be stupid,” Draco interrupted him, his voice more gentle than his words. Carefully, he removed Harry’s pajama top. Loosing his composure for a moment, he flinched at the sight. Taking a steadying breath, he started the healing. When he was done with that, it was his turn to blush. He did not let that be a cause for hesitation though, and unceremoniously he suddenly pushed down Harry’s pants and starting healing his legs as well.

Now both were blushing and Harry was grateful that he at least was wearing his boxers underneath his pajama bottoms. There was absolutely nothing sexual in the situation, but he still found it immensely awkward to stand before Draco next to naked. He drew the limit at his boxers though. He had some pride left, after all. Seeming to understand, Draco instead cast a lighter healing spell with only the tip of his wand breaching the lining of Harry’s boxers. He apparently did not dare to cast the ones he had used elsewhere, as he did not see the damage, but Harry felt that the one he did use nevertheless healed him up quite perfectly.

As he pulled up his pants, he wondered where Draco had learned all the different kinds of healing spells. Did it have anything to do with how he had learned about broken souls? When Harry reached for his pajama top, which had been thrown on Draco’s bed, Draco stopped him however, with a light hand to his chest.

“What?” Harry whispered, having found his voice again. Draco did not answer, however. He just held his hand against Harry’s chest. Neither did he look Harry in the eyes, instead he was looking at his hand on Harry’s chest. Almost tentatively, he then started to move his hand, ever so lightly, stroking Harry’s skin.

Harry just stood there, letting the other boy caress him. No one had ever touched him like this. They had never made it this far with Ginny, and the men h had been with had not really been the caressing kind. He felt a burn in his throat at Draco’s touch that soon moved on straight to his groin. He tried to calm himself though, knowing Draco probably was not ready for anything like that.

It was almost impossible though, and soon he felt his cock starting to harden as the want in him for more increased. He forced himself to stay in place though, letting Draco explore with his fingers. Draco seemed to be oblivious to Harry’s predicament, too occupied with what he was doing. Harry figured it was his first time, touching someone else like this. His hand stayed mostly on Harry’s chest, a few times it ventured down toward the lining of his pants. Every time it did though, Draco soon seemed to loose his nerve and soon it was back up on the chest.

After awhile, Draco’s hand stilled again, but stayed on Harry’s chest, touching lightly. Draco looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. His breathing might have been slightly calmer than Harry’s, but his pupils were so dilated that Harry could barely see the gray of his irises. What shocked him though was that there was also tears in Draco’s eyes.

“I wish you didn’t feel the need to hurt yourself. I wish you’d come here instead, before you did anything,” he almost choked on the words, one tear escaping. “I wish you saw how beautiful you are.”

Harry did not know what to say. He was not beautiful. He was ugly and dirty and used. He turned away his face, not able to look Draco in the eyes any longed. Draco’s other hand came up though and took a hold of his chin, turning his head back.

“We’ll talk tomorrow after classes, promise me that. You can’t hold everything inside you, you need to talk about it. Whatever made you do this, promise me, we’ll talk about it.” When Harry did not answer, Draco’s voice got a little louder and sharper, even though he was still whispering. “Promise me!”. Finally, Harry nodded. He did not know how he would be able to do that, but he guessed he owed Draco an explanation of some sort at least. And some part of him knew that what Draco said, made sense. He needed to talk.

After agreeing to talk the next day, Draco’s expression softened and his pupils dilated again. He took a step closer to Harry, one hand still on his chest, the other one now cupping his chin. Softly, their lips met.

It was not a passionate kiss, but still it awoke in Harry more feelings than any other kiss he had had. His hands rose to rest on Draco’s shoulders as the kiss deepened somewhat; still with almost closed lips though. When they stopped, they stayed close to each other, resting their foreheads against each others.

“We need to get some sleep,” Draco finally said. “You’ve not slept at all yet, have you?” Harry confirmed that. He figured he would not sleep at all that night, he was too wired up from all that had happened. He was used to nights without sleep though. Draco seemed to have read what he was thinking though.

“Stay.”

“What?” Harry was sure he had heard the other boy wrong.

“I know it’s not actually allowed, but stay anyway. If we get caught, well, it’s just my dorm-mates we have to worry about catching us, and of them, Nott’s the only problem. And I can deal with him.”

It was tempting. More than tempting. It was just… He knew Draco did not intend sex, but what he did not know was how he would react if Harry’s body, well… reacted to Draco’s closeness anyway? Still, just sleeping next to Draco sounded nice. He had never just slept beside anyone before.

“Stay,” Draco repeated the command. It was more of a command than a request, but somehow Harry found that that did not bother him. He actually liked it, at least this one time. He nodded.

Smiling, Draco gestured to the bed. Harry lay down and felt Draco get in beside him. Draco carefully positioned himself behind Harry, spooning him up. Soon, Harry was asleep. He had never felt this safe before.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry fell asleep almost instantly, but Draco lay awake holding Harry close. Nuzzling the other boys neck, he thought he would never be able to let go of this nearness. He would never be able to let Harry out of his sight again, if that meant he would go do something as horrendous to himself as he had done now.

Draco had almost lost it when he had seen what Harry had done to himself. He had seen some terrible shit while the Dark Lord had made the manor his home, but it was different when someone did something like this to themselves, without anyone forcing them to. It was different, when you cared about this other person.

As it was, Draco had plenty of experience at hiding his emotions and keeping calm though. Harry had needed healing, that had been the priority right now. The next day, Draco would make sure that they would talk about it. He would make sure that Harry started on his path of emotional healing as well.

He could not sleep now though. He was going through the last couple of days in his mind, trying to see if there was something he should have noticed. Some sign that this had been close to happening. He berated himself for not making the time to talk to Harry more than he had. He had seen Harry each day, but only shortly. Ever since they talked, he had had a hard time sorting out his feelings about wanting to have sex with Harry, at the same time as he was getting more and more jealous of the partners he imagined Harry had had and feeling self-conscious about not having any experience himself.

He should not have let that keep him from Harry though. He had promised to be there for him. So what, if he had had sex before? Draco was not even entirely sure of his own feelings for Harry yet. Whatever they might develop into, he should not let them interfere with him being there if the other boy needed him. He vowed to himself that from now on he would make time for Harry each day. For now though, he hugged Harry closer, feeling for the first time another person’s body pressed close to his own. As his worries about Harry subsided a bit, new thoughts came to keep him awake.

Having healed Harry, he had not been able to let him go. He had just had this overwhelming need to keep touching the other boy. Harry’s chest had been slightly hairy and the skin soft, the muscles underneath firm and well defined. The need had been a mixture of Draco wanting to make sure that Harry was really there and whole, and a need to just touch him - to explore, to feel, to get to know another person’s body in a way that he had never wanted to before.

Harry had let Draco touch him. Draco had in fact noticed the reaction Harry had had to his touch, that had told him he would probably have let Draco do even more. Draco did not want to do anything more right now though. He wanted Harry to want him, not because of some sense of gratitude, but because Draco was Draco. As it was now, Draco was not even entirely sure Harry liked him. Harry did not have much of anyone else to support him for the moment, and Draco was happy to be there for him. He just did not want to build a relationship based on only that.

When Draco finally fell asleep, morning was almost there.

*

“Hey, Draco, are you going to come down to breakfast? Why are your bed-curtains closed by the way?” Draco awoke to Blaise’s voice and the sound of the curtains being opened. He opened his eyes to find a frozen Blaise, one hand still on the curtain, staring at him and Harry.

“Well..,” Blaise’s voice trailed of for a moment before continuing. “This was a first, I’ll say.” He pointedly looked them both up and down. “Potter transfered to Slytherin then? Didn’t know that was possible. Or that we’d run out of beds and now have to share. Who do I get to shack up with?”

“Shut it Blaise,” Draco answered with a grin. Harry still seemed too stunned to talk, or maybe he was just not a morning person. Draco turned to face him. “Good morning. Want to go straight down to breakfast, or do you need to go by that tower of yours first?”

“Mornin’,” he grunted, rubbing his eyes as he spoke. Not a morning person then.

“There’s coffee in the Great Hall you know,” Draco teased. That seemed to perk Harry’s interest as he looked up and around, apparently trying to locate his pajama top. Getting up, Draco realized Harry did not have any fitting clothes. They would have to go by the Gryffindor Tower then. Pulling on his own clothes, Draco gave Harry his pajama top. After a quick wash-up, Draco told Blaise they would meet him in the Great Hall in a moment and then they made their way to the tower.

*

They stopped when they reached the portrait that led into the Gryffindor Tower. Harry spoke the password to the Fat Lady, then made the move to step through the opening. He stopped when he realized that Draco was standing back.

“You can come. I was in Slytherin, so it’s only fair.”

Draco looked at Harry. He knew Harry was already in trouble with his friends. Taking him inside would mean even more trouble. On the other hand, Draco would be there with him. He would not always be though - it was not like he could move to the tower any more than Harry could move down to the dungeons.

“I’ll wait here. I think it’s for the better.” Harry looked torn at that, apparently realizing the same as Draco. After a moment of thought, he nodded and went inside. The portrait closed after him and Draco leaned against the opposite wall, preparing to wait.

***

When he entered the dorms, only Ron was there. For a moment they just looked at each other, before Ron turned away. Harry walked to his bed to get his clothes.

“You spent the night somewhere else,” Ron suddenly spoke.

“Yeah.”

“Do I want to know more?”

“Probably not.”

Ron was quiet for a while and Harry thought that he had started ignoring him again. He was just on his way out, when Ron found his voice again.

“You were with Malfoy then.”

Harry stopped in the doorway, but did not turn to look at his friend. He just nodded, once, in reply.

“Is he, you know, treating you okay?”

One more nod, Harry still could not bring himself to turn around and look at Ron. Ron did not say anything more though, so soon Harry left.

*

Draco was waiting for him, as he had said he would. Together they walked down to the Great Hall. He asked Harry about what had happened, when he got his clothes, and he told him about the conversation with Ron. Draco nodded, seeing that Harry really did not know himself what he was feeling about it right now.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry started to walk toward the Gryffindor table.

“You can come sit with us, you know.”

“You mean your house mates would actually be okay with that?” Harry looked astonished. Draco grinned as he replied. “Not all of them. Blaise and Pansy will be okay with it, Nott won’t. I can handle Nott though. It’s all about playing the game. Knowing your own strengths and weaknesses, as well as the other’s. It’s about knowing when to act and when to wait. Right now is the time to act.”

Harry smiled at that, feeling strangely intrigued. “That actually sounds like fun.”

“Come on then.”

Together they headed toward the Slytherin table. Without a word, Parkinson moved one seat to the right, so that Harry could sit between her and Draco, instead of next to Bulstrode.

“Potter.” Nott held his voice level. Harry looked up and straight into his eyes, making sure he did not flinch or show anything else than that he was perfectly comfortable sitting there and only mildly curious of what Nott wanted. Nott paused for a couple of seconds, then he held up a plate to Harry. “Would you care for some bacon?” he asked.

Not letting himself waver, he smiled politely as he took the plate. “Thank you. Theodore Nott, isn’t it?” Nott bowed his head slightly in confirmation, not letting his eyes leave Harry’s though. Harry let the corner’s of his mouth twitch up in an almost-smile before turning away and calmly placing a couple of the crispy stripes on his plate. As he took a bite, he looked up and found Nott’s eyes again. He held his eyes steadily on Nott’s as he chewed and swallowed that first bite. Nott’s gaze did not waver. When Harry had swallowed, he bowed his head slightly again. As Harry returned the gesture, Nott gave him a small smile and turned to continue his conversation with Bulstrode.

Harry was not entirely sure what had happened, but he had a feeling he had passed some sort of test. By Draco’s short squeeze of his leg, and confirming smile, he gathered he had indeed done well.

“So, Potter. You’re really transferring to Slytherin then,” Zabini smirked at him. It was a sort of friendly smirk though, so Harry dared grin at him as he replied. “I’m just broadening my horizons, that’s all.” Parkinson and Zabini both laughed at that and Harry felt he had passed a minor test with that as well. Was that what it was like, being a Slytherin? Every word was part of this game Draco had mentioned, every conversation a test? Sounded exhausting, but yet at the same time oddly fascinating and appealing.

After breakfast, Harry had to part from the Slytherins though, as they headed for Herbology while Harry went to Charms.

*

Ron was back to ignoring him again and Hermione was doing the same. Seamus and Dean gestured for him to come join them though, so Harry went over to their table.

“So, you and Malfoy then?” Seamus asked. There was not anything malicious about his question though, and he smiled as he asked it. Harry blushed, not knowing what to answer, as he and Malfoy was something, but what exactly was still unclear. He finally mumbled something about it being new and that he did not exactly know. Seamus and Dean looked at each other, smiling, as if they remembered when their relationship had been new.

“You know, he’s kinda a git, but I had to do this project with him in Arithmancy the other day, and I guess he isn’t as bad as he used to be.” Seamus said with a wink. Harry smiled. Maybe he had a few friends left, and he guessed he was making new ones as well. Although he could not help but wonder, what kind of friends the Slytherins would be, with all their games and intrigues.

No matter how many new friends he made, he would not miss Ron and Hermione any less though.

*

After Charms, he headed for Potions. Meeting Draco there, they shared a table. At lunch, Harry once again joined the Slytherins. When they parted ways again, they made plans to meet after dinner. Harry felt nervous at that. He had promised he would talk to Draco about what had brought on the happenings the evening before. He really would rather forget about the whole thing, but a promise was a promise. Also, he knew he could not avoid the subject forever. He needed to get it out.

That did not stop him from being so nervous that he felt like he walked around with a lead weight in his stomach all day. He really felt like running away from it all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the comments and kudos :)

Together, they walked out to the lake. They found a quiet spot, under some trees. Draco sat down, back against a tree. He gestured for Harry to sit down beside him, but Harry could not bring himself to sit down. Instead, he paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to say. Or rather, how to say it. He knew why he had done what he had. He knew what had led to it. But how to put it into words?

Draco seemed to understand at least some of it though, because instead of hurrying Harry, he waited patiently.

***

Harry was clearly having a hard time. Every fiber of Draco’s being wanted to get up and hold the other boy close, but he knew that the best thing was to give Harry time to sort out his head. Not too much time, but for the moment, there was no hurry. So Draco remained seated where he was, trying to be a calming presence to Harry.

Part of him wanted to hurry Harry on, but he was not sorted into Slytherin for naught. He knew the value of patience, in contrast to just bursting forward without any thought - like your standard Gryffindors tended to do. So he waited.

“I’m not demisexual, you know.” Harry suddenly blurted out.

“I gathered that, yes.”

“I mean, I…” Harry seemed to loose the nerve to continue. Draco figured that now was the time to do something, the time to wait was over. Harry clearly had found the words, but now he lost the courage to say them instead. Draco got up, took Harry’s hand and gently tugged him along to sit down with him. They sat next to each other, leaning back against the broad tree trunk. Draco took Harry’s hand and held it so that Harry would feel his presence, while their position would allow him to not look at Draco unless he wanted to.

“I’ve had sex.” Harry’s voice sounded almost angry, and defensive. Draco just nodded. He had guessed that much, and having it confirmed that he was right was not pleasant, but for the moment he would keep his own feelings in check. He could deal with them later. Now he needed to help Harry, and being judgmental would not do.

“After last spring, after I killed Voldemort,” Draco made himself not flinch when Harry used the Dark Lords name, “I thought everything would get better. That I’d get to live a normal, quiet life. I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong.” He laughed a little, but it was without any joy. “I would almost say, it got worse.” He was quiet for a short while before continuing. “Yes, it got worse.”

“There was always someone wanting something. I’d never have a moment for myself. There was always eyes on me, expecting things from me. And I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to be allowed to make mistakes, screw up, and not having it be the front page news. I wanted to lay back for awhile and rest without having thousands of letters and other messages waiting for me when I got back. I wanted to go shopping for books or clothes or whatever without everyone knowing who I was and making a big deal of it. Many times I just wanted to disappear.”

“Then we had that talk with Ginny. We just made official what we both already knew - that we were more like brother and sister than lovers. Sometimes I wish it weren’t so. In many ways she would be perfect for me. But I just never could be with her like that. It would just be so wrong. She is a great friend though.”

He paused again, gathering strength for what was to come. Draco squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“It was maybe a week after that, that I went out for the first time. Sneaked out really, as I didn’t want anyone to see me. I used a glamour on myself, but I still didn’t risk going to any wizarding place. Instead I went to a Muggle Club.” He paused again, clearly struggling now to say the words.

“You know, we hadn’t done anything more with Ginny than just kissing. Before that night, I hadn’t done anything more than kissing with anyone. That night though, I lost my virginity to a man I don’t remember the name of, and who’s face is just as anonymous.” He said that with clear bitterness in his voice. “After that, I went out several times a week. I always ended up getting fucked by someone, and I hardly ever even got their name. For a short while though, I could pretend. I could pretend that they actually cared who they were fucking in some random alley. And for that short while I could forget about being the-boy-who-fucking-lived-twice. And kinda wished he hadn’t.” He said that last part quietly, but Draco still heard it and could not help but flinch at the emptiness that he heard in Harry’s voice.

“So. Now you know. I’m nothing but a dirty whore. I’m not worth your time or help. I’m not worth anyones time, but least of all yours. And I’m certainly not worth anything like this.” At the last word, he tried to take his hand away, but instead of letting it go, Draco grabbed it harder.

“I’d thank you not to make decisions on my part regarding who is worth my time and who is not.” Draco said, keeping his voice cool while his heart ached with sympathy. He made sure to look Harry in the eyes, before he continued. “And no matter what you think, I am glad you did live.” He made sure to keep Harry’s gaze and let him really see the sincerity in his eyes.

At first Harry fidgeted and did not want to keep looking Draco in the eyes, but after awhile he relaxed somewhat. Draco then drew him close and put his lips to Harry’s in a careful kiss. They kissed softly for awhile; it was more a caress meant to soothe and relax than a passionate prelude leading to something more intense. When they finally allowed their lips to part, Harry lay down with his head in Draco’s lap. Without speaking, they just lay there, listening to the sounds of the wind and lake. Draco absentmindedly let his fingers play with Harry’s hair.

*

Later that evening, Draco lay awake in his bed, feeling guilty. What Harry had been through, had been horrible - he might have chosen to put himself through those situations willingly, but it had been an act of desperation. It had been an act of self destruction, just as the cutting. It had been a symptom of a broken soul.

Draco really hated that Harry had been through that. He hated that Harry had felt so desperate for someone to care about him, that he had let those persons do that to him. Draco hated that at the same time that he wanted to do anything to make what had happened not happen, he felt relieved. The guilt of that feeling was tearing at him and he tried to will it away.

It would not listen though. No matter how wrong he felt it was, he also felt relieved. He had been feeling so jealous of all the lover’s Harry had had. He had been imagining how skilled they had been and how he would never measure up - and if there was something Draco Malfoy hated, it was not measuring up. Malfoy’s did not fail. At anything. Ever.

Of course, his father, who had thought him that, had failed spectacularly. He was also paying for that failure, in Azkaban. Draco was not following in his footsteps anymore.

Still, he hated failure.

So, thinking he would fail Harry in bed, if they ever ended up there, had been horrible. Knowing now, what all Harry’s previous encounters had been like, he felt better. And that, in turn, made him feel worse.

Harry had had a lot of sex. Fucking, he called it. If they ever made it to bed, that was where Draco would make it differently. If they made it to bed, they would not be fucking. He would make it special for Harry, memorable. They would make love. His fellow Slytherins - and probably others too - might laugh at Draco’s choice of words, but as he had never been interested in the kind of sexual encounters they had, he did not particularly care. If he ever ended up in bed with anyone, he knew it would be making love. Otherwise, he could just leave it be. Otherwise, it would not be worth it.

Being relieved that Harry had only had awful, maybe even traumatic, sexual encounters before, however, was wrong. Draco fell asleep struggling with that knowledge. Struggling with feeling awful, feeling sorry, feeling relieved. He truly wished Harry had not been through all that. He truly felt sorry that Harry had done that to himself.

He also, just as truly and no matter how he tried to fight it, continued to feel relieved.


	17. Chapter 17

As Harry was walking to lunch the next day, Hermione cornered him. She dragged him into a nearby, unused classroom. Closing the door behind them, they just looked at each other. Harry reflected over how much distress was emanating out of Hermione’s whole being. She was fidgeting a little as well, not really able to keep still.

“His aunt tortured me. Tortured me!” She finally cried out with distress in her voice. There was no question who ‘he’ was.

“Yes, his aunt did,” Harry agreed quietly.

“He did nothing to get her to stop.”

“There was nothing he could’ve done, you know that. He would just have ended up tortured as well.” Harry could see the small flicker in Hermione’s eyes that told him she knew that. She was still hurting though.

“His family is Dark. They sided with Voldemort - his father was Voldemort’s right hand man! He almost killed Dumbledore. He let Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He almost killed Ron! And Katey. He is evil and he should be in Azkaban with his father!” Tears were now streaming down Hermione’s face. Harry wanted nothing more than to put his arms around his friend and make her feel better. Instead, he spoke, trying to choose his words carefully.

“You know he was forced to do those things. Voldemort would’ve killed his family otherwise. What would you have done, ‘Mione, if it had been your parent’s lives that he had threatened? And yes, his family sided with Voldemort, but Voldemort is dead and his father, who was the one that actually made the choice for his whole family, is in Azkaban. Draco really has changed, ‘Mione. He isn’t like he was. He was born and bred to be a Pure Blood, he didn’t choose it any more than you chose being born to Muggles or Ron chose to be born a Weasley. No one chooses what family they are born into. I think he is trying to see things differently now though. Not completely, I know that too. You couldn’t change all about what you’ve been thought to believe over night, just because everyone told you it was wrong, now would you? But doesn’t he still deserve a chance? A chance to change and pick a different way of life. He is just as much a victim as I am, as all of us are. You know that, right?”

Harry could see reluctant agreement in her eyes. She did not want to see his point, she wanted to argue, that much was clear. Hermione was smart though, and she could see the truth. Her emotions was in the way though. That was not anything Harry could blame her for though. She had been through hell at the hands of Bellatrix. And because of Voldemort, Hermione had had to change her own parent’s memories, and face them while they did not know who she was. They still did not know - they had not been able to reverse the spell yet. That was not directly Draco’s fault, but it was due to Voldemort, so Harry could see the connection. He could see the hurt in his friend’s eyes. There was a lot of hurt for her to overcome, but he could see that she did agree with what he had said as well.

“Does he love you?” She suddenly asked. Harry just looked at her, struck dumb by her question. “Do you love him?” She continued, as he remained silent.

‘Love’. Such a big word. They had not talked about love. Did he love Draco? Did Draco love him? No, probably not. How could he? Harry was broken. Did Harry love Draco though? What was love even? Harry needed Draco. Draco felt more important to him than oxygen. More than anything right now, he wished for a definition of their relationship. They still had not talked about it. Harry could feel that Draco was avoiding it. Draco did not want to put a label on what it was that they had, that much was clear. Still, Harry had seen something in Draco’s eyes yesterday. Draco had probably not noticed it; that he had given away a small smidgen of his emotions. That he had revealed, for only a moment, that he was jealous that Harry had had others. And, more hard to define, but also, Harry thought he had seen something else flicker by in Draco’s eyes. Some feeling had come and gone, when Harry had revealed how impersonal all of his relations had been. That it had only been about fucking.

That Draco would be jealous about Harry’s earlier ‘encounters’ awoke strange feelings in him. Harry did not like jealousy, he told himself. Still, he felt oddly flattered. That someone would care like that. It was a contradiction to him, to feel positively about something he always had thought distasteful. He had always thought jealousy to be wrong. Some part of him though, felt a thrill at the possessiveness that that jealousy promised.

Was any of this love though? Need, want, possessiveness. He wanted it to be love, he knew that. He wanted it to be love more than he could say. He wanted love. Wanting something to be love, wanting love, was not the same thing as love though.

He wanted Draco. He wanted Draco to want him; to be possessive of him even. He wanted to give himself over to Draco and let him take charge. He needed Draco to save him from himself. Draco was his lifeline, his hope in the darkness.

He lusted over Draco. It was nothing like those men before him. They had all been nameless and could easily have been anyone else than who they were. He did not even remember most of their names. They had just been there, convenient. Draco could never be a nameless encounter. He wanted Draco to take him more fully than anyone had before. He wanted to feel Draco inside and out. He wanted to give himself over completely. Just thinking about it all lightened a fire inside Harry; a lust burning so hot it felt like it would consume him whole and leave nothing but ashes behind.

Draco was his drug; his addiction.

Harry was not sure it was ‘love’ though.

“Hmm.” The soft sound Hermione made, startled Harry up from his thoughts. She was regarding him thoughtfully, had probably been all the time as Harry had been lost in his own thoughts. Her tears had dried; the hurt their conversation had brought to the surface was still in her eyes, but not as painfully as before. She cocked her head to the side. “I love you, Harry. I’m so sorry about these last few days. And I’m even more sorry that I’m not ready yet to accept you and Malfoy and, well, whatever it is you have with him. I…” her voice broke a little, “I am your friend, and I do love you though, and I want you to know that I’m not about to abandon you. I just have a hard time. I see him, and in my mind I see his aunt. I see all that we were put through.” Her voice got small. “I’ll try though, Harry. For you. I’ll try to give him a chance. Just don’t push me, okay? Can you do that, for me?” She looked at him imploringly, tears threatening in her eyes again. Harry just nodded in response. Immediately, Hermione flung her arms around his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much! I’ve been absolutely miserable, seeing you hurting, and not just being able to pull myself together. I’m so, so sorry, Harry!”

“I…” his voice caught in his throat, “I’m sorry too, ‘Mione. I just, you know, I can’t really explain it, but Draco is…”

“Don’t.” Hermione interrupted him. “I’m not ready yet to hear about it, is that okay? I want to be here for you, you are clearly not doing well, and I want to help. I want to be your friend. And I will work on giving Malfoy another chance. Just don’t talk about him, not yet. I know it’s a shitty thing to ask, but…” this time it was Harry’s turn to interrupt.

“I understand, ‘Mione. I won’t give him up, I won’t stop seeing him.”

“I’m not asking you to.” They were interrupting each other repeatedly now then.

“I know you’re not. I’m just saying it so that it has been said. I’m also saying that I understand it’s hard for you. And I really appreciate that you’re willing to even try to give him a chance, and I will let you do that at your own pace.” Harry smiled at Hermione, his heart lifting a little as she smiled back.

Together, they walked to the Great Hall. Ron looked up as they approached the Gryffindor table, conflicting emotions flickering by on his face that was turning a deep shade of red as he saw Harry walk in with Hermione. Putting the glass he held in his hand down with a thump, he got up and rushed out, leaving his unfinished food behind.

Harry turned to Hermione in question. His friend looked uncomfortable and like she was about to cry again. “Ron… Ron and I broke up,” she finally said, not meeting his eyes. Harry did not know what to say. He had noticed, before this whole mess, that they had been fighting a lot. Apparently, they had not bonded over their mutual dislike of Harry and Draco being, well, whatever it was they were.

They ate in quiet, both lost in thought. Harry could not help but wonder, whether Ron would now come seek him up too. Would he have to take sides between his friends? Or was Ron still mad at Harry? Ron had talked to Harry the other day. Harry did not know what he was feeling. He had at least one of his friends back, maybe there was hope to have his other as well, but if they were fighting, he would be caught in the middle.

He was so tired of being in the middle of fights he had not even started.

His eyes met Draco’s, who at that moment entered the Great Hall with Parkinson at his side. Draco looked over at Hermione, sitting next to Harry, and then back to Harry and gave him a small smile. Harry smiled back, feeling a warmth spread in his heart.

It might not be love he felt. Not yet.

There was nothing that said it could not turn into love though.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for possible TRIGGERS in the form of self harm (cutting).
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos <3

“I can’t believe you chose to side with her!” Ron was almost shouting at Harry as soon as he set foot in their shared dorm.

“Side with who? ‘Mione?”

“Of course Hermione! I saw you, all chummy and best friends again. Do you even know what she did?”

“Calm down, Ron. I haven’t chosen sides. Hermione and I just made up, neither of you have been talking to me for days, remember?” Harry could not keep the bitterness out of his voice and Ron did look a little bit ashamed at his words. “She just told me you guys broke up. Nothing else.”

“She took a page out of your book,” Ron snared at him. Harry just looked at him in question, not really following. “I caught her sneaking of with a Slytherin. Doing Merlin knows what,” Ron continued, getting more and more angry for each word.

“A Slytherin? Who?”

“As if you don’t know. All four of you have probably been going on double dates behind my back, thinking me a fool!”

“I swear Ron, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Calm down, mate!”

“Those bloody Slytherins are all Dark, Harry. They’re twisted and sick manipulators. I’m having none of it. You and ‘Mione go ahead, fornicate with evil all you want and see if I care!” At that Ron turned and run out of the room, leaving a very confused Harry behind.

*

Later, Harry found Hermione in the common room, studying. Ron had yet to return from where ever he had gone.

“’Mione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Uhm, can we talk?”

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. “Sure, just let me finish this chapter first okay? It’ll only be a minute.”

Harry sat down next to her on the sofa, waiting as she finished her reading. When she put down her book and turned to him, he suddenly had a hard time facing her. They had made up but he was still hurt. He did understand, in a way, how hard it was for her to accept Malfoy, but then had she really been sneaking off with some other Slytherin? He could only find out by asking though.

“I had a talk with Ron.”

“Oh,” she blushed, but did not say anything else.

“He was really angry and not making a lot of sense, so I figured I’d ask for your side of the story.”

“Sure,” Hermione hesitated before continuing. “Ron got the wrong idea of what happened. Then he just wouldn’t listen. You know how he is.” Harry nodded in agreement. When Ron got angry, listening really was not one of his abilities.

“The other day I was in the library, reading up on memory charms. Because of my parents,” she would not have needed to explain that last part, Harry knew how she was hurting from not being able to figure out how to return her parents memories yet. He nodded for her to continue. “As I was reading, Millicent Bulstrode walked by and happened to get a look at the book. As it happened, she was just there looking for it - it’s the only copy they have. Did you know she is almost an expert on the subject of memory charms?” Harry just shook his head in denial. He had never shared a Charms class with any of the Slytherins, and hardly knew anything about the quiet, surly girl.

“Yeah, she haven’t said much about it, but from what I’ve gathered, her cousin had an accident with one when they were both still children. He’s been in St Mungo’s ever since, and she’ve sort of made it her life’s mission to cure him. Anyway, I ended up telling her about my folks, and we’ve been sharing knowledge and ideas since. She’s been a lot of help, I’ve got a lot of new ideas I’m researching now.”

“That’s great! You didn’t tell Ron about it though?”

“No. I thought I would, but then, well, he was already so upset about you hanging out with a Slytherin so I figured I’d tell him bout it later. Of course he then walked in on me and Millicent talking the other day. And being Ron, he just made a whole lot of assumptions and lost it before I could say anything,” she furrowed her brow at that last part, clearly irritated.

“He’ll calm down, ‘Mione. You know Ron, he’s all hot and angry for awhile, but you give him some space and he’ll cool down and realize how idiotic he’s been. You’ll figure this out and make up, I’m sure of it.”

“Sure, yeah. Maybe,” Hermione would not meet his eyes now. Did she not want to make up with Ron? Harry was not sure he wanted to push the issue and ask though. They had just made up themselves, he did not want to upset her this soon after that with asking too many questions about a topic that really was none of his business. Instead he gave her an awkward, one-armed hug in support.

*

During the following weeks, they settled into a pattern. Harry would sit with Draco in classes they shared, with Hermione in the others. Ron still was not talking to either of them. A couple of times a week, Ginny and Harry would meet up with Draco, Pansy and Blaise in the library to study. They would not talk much, but both Draco’s friends and Ginny were clearly making an effort to get along. Harry and Draco made sure to each day spend some time just the two of them, too. Sometimes they would go flying, or they would study together, but mostly they would just find a quiet place where to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

Hermione still would not have anything to do with Draco, but she was trying. A couple of times she had asked Harry about him and how they were doing. She continued to hang out to exchange ideas with Millicent though, and Harry thought she was starting to accept that being a Slytherin was not equal to being evil by default.

Harry was feeling better than he had for years. He still got a lot of dirty looks from people upset with him hanging out with Draco and the other Slytherins, but most of his friends had gotten used to it by now and that was what counted. It was just Ron, who refused to come around. Still, Harry was feeling pretty good.

He still did not know what sort of relationship he had with Draco though. They would meet and hang out and sometimes, they would even kiss. It never went any further than that though, and they never talked about what they were to each other. Harry tried a couple of times, but Draco would just find a way to avoid answering. It irritated Harry, but he tried to be patient. He tried to tell himself that this was how it should be. If there was a deeper relationship forming between them, it would come with time. He had had so many quick encounters, giving this one time to grow and deepen was a good thing. Sometimes though, Harry wished he was better at the whole ‘being patient’-thing.

*

Harry had been feeling restless for a couple of days now, but he just could not put his finger on why. He felt like he was itching all over and had a hard time to concentrate. Anxiety was building up inside him and the fact that he just could not tell why increased the anxiety even more. He was, in other words, anxious about being anxious. The whole thing was so ridiculous he just wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot.

They had just spent the evening in the library, and after parting from the Slytherins, Harry and Ginny walked up to the Gryffindor Tower.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Harry knew he did not sound very convincing.

“Right. So you weren’t twitching in your chair the whole evening then? Did you get any work done at all?” Harry blushed, caught in his lie.

“Some. I’m okay though, really. I just feel a little restless. It’s nothing serious Gin, don’t worry.” He said that last part with a smile, trying to convince himself at the same time as Ginny.

“Everything is going okay with Draco?”

“We’re fine. As usual.”

“…but?”

“There’s no ‘but’.”

“There’s a screaming but.”

“…”

Ginny grinned.

“A ‘screaming butt’? Really Gin?”

“What?”

Harry just crooked an eyebrow at her.

“I let you know, Mr. Harry Potter, that my ‘but’ is perfectly innocent.”

“You seriously didn’t just say that.”

“It is. There’s nothing about my ‘but’ that is anything but innocent. I’m not responsible of your thoughts and if they are all butt-centric in an entirely different way.” Ginny winked at him. Harry groaned.

“Seriously though, Harry. I could here you wanting to scream out a continuation to that sentence. Everything is fine between the two of you, as usual, BUT..?”

“But nothing. Everything is fine. It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“Well, we’re the same now, as we’ve been for weeks. I guess I’m just getting a little anxious to move forward, you know?”

“Forward how?”

“Well… You know, I don’t think I can talk to you about this.” Harry felt the color rise on his cheeks.

“Hey! Now I definitely want to know more! Does it has to do with sex? Tell me, pretty please? I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t had any action for ages!” Ginny was practically jumping up and down in excitement. Really? Getting exiting about someone else’s sex life?

“There really isn’t anything to tell, Ginny. And I’m NOT having this conversation with you!”

“Why not? And what do you mean that there’s nothing to tell? You mean you two haven’t done it yet?”

“Ginny!”

“You haven’t, have you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

Ginny was quiet for a short while. “So that’s what’s bothering you then?” Harry nodded in response, blushing. Talking with your ex about your current sex life with someone else, was not exactly on the top of his ‘favorite things to do’ -list. Not even when said ex currently was a really good friend.

Ginny stopped as they had reached the portrait. She turned to Harry before they went in though.

“You’ll get there, Harry. He’s head of heels for you, any fool can see that. Maybe he just needs a little bit of encouragement? Have you guys even been on a date?”

“We go out every day.”

“Just hanging out around here doesn’t count as a proper date. I mean, have you done anything really special together? Have you taken him anywhere? You’re eight years, you know. You don’t have to wait for a Hogsmead weekend like the rest of us. You’re all eighteen. As long as you’re back by curfew, you’re allowed to leave the grounds you know.”

Harry had not thought about that. He grinned at Ginny, who hugged him tight. Feeling better, they entered the Gryffindor Tower.

*

When he lay down to sleep that evening though, the restlessness was back, worse than before. Thinking about asking Draco for an actual date - and feeling pretty confident he would say yes - did not help. Something else was making him restless. He felt like fire-ants was crawling under his skin. He tossed and turned, but he just could not lay still.

“You okay there mate?” Seamus’s sleep-soaked voice carried over from across the room.

“Yeah, just a stiff back bothering me,” the lie came easily. “I’ll just shut the curtains, so you lot at least can get some sleep.”

Doing just that, and putting up a silencio too, Harry sat on his bed in the darkness. He felt like he was suffocating. He just did not get why. Everything was going good, damn it! Ron was being a childish brat, but he would come around, he always did. Harry was sure of it. He was also a little frustrated with his relationship with Draco not moving forward, but thanks to Ginny, he had a plan regarding that too. Even his studies was actually going well for the moment - Hermione and Draco might not be overly happy to hear it, but they actually were a lot alike. Both kept pushing Harry to study more, as they both seemed to be glued to books most of the time. Study, study, study seemed to be all Harry heard these days. It was good though, he really needed to get his NEWTs.

He was not feeling stressed about anything in particular, right now. Not even the press was making any trouble for him anymore.

So why was his anxiety-levels increasing? Why did it feel like he was about to explode, unless he got some release soon?

Release.

He was hardly thinking now. That one word only seemed now to be stuck in his head.

Release.

What was it that always helped him in situations like this? That always relieved him of his anxiety? That always gave him the release he needed?

His blade.

He had not used it for weeks now, not after what had happened in the showers. Without thinking, he trust his hand under the mattress to where he had hid it. It was still there. He took it out. He held it in his hand, just looking at it. He found that his hands were shaking. At the sight of the razor, the anxious need inside him grew to unbearable proportions.

A distant voice inside his head tried to tell him not to do it. There was no reason to. Everything was going good. There was no reason to cut. There was no reason to hurt himself.

That voice was very, very distant.

The need to do it, was screaming. Absentmindedly, as he put the edge against his skin to make the first cut, he wondered if this was what a drug-addict felt like, when they needed to get a fix?

Harry’s skin seemed to be screaming for it. The endorphins the first cut released felt like silk embracing his soul. The second, the third, the fourth… His breathing started to slow down, even out. He felt how the anxiety flowed away from him, leaving.

When he was finished, his arm was full of cuts. None too serious, but there was a lot of them. Harry looked at them, feeling almost aloof. Thinking felt too hard right now though. He tucked away the blade, falling into a blissful sleep almost immediately after. He would leave the thinking about what he had done for the next day.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I need to give a WARNING for sex as well? Light bondage, but pretty vanilla, nothing harsh. And of course, it's sex between two boys, that should be obvious as this is a Drarry-fic and not need any warning. It's the first time ever I've written any kind of sex scene though, so maybe I should warn for that :D
> 
> Oh and I guess I should WARN for some minor references to selfharm/cutting.

Two weeks later, it was finally time for their date. Formally asking Draco out had been intensely awkward, but after finally getting the words out, Draco had just smiled and agreed. Thus they were now in Hogsmead, sipping on a couple of butterbeers while trying to come up with suitable topics of conversations. Luckily for Harry, Draco had been thought the pointless art of small talk since he was but a small child. Letting the blond take the lead in the discussion, the afternoon progressed nicely.

It was not until two hours later, when they were about to move over to the restaurant, where they were to have dinner, that it happened. Reaching out to take Harry by the arm, the sudden pressure on a wound from the previous evening, made Harry flinch before he could stop himself.

Since that evening two weeks ago, when he had broke down to cut without reason, he had started a sort-of system. He found himself craving the feelings of the blade, and not wanting to let it get out of control, he would allow himself exactly three cuts each evening. He knew it was not the mark of a healthy mind, but he felt like it was the best he could do right now. He did not want to bother Draco with this, he had been of such much help already. And it was not like Harry was seriously injuring himself now, was it? He told himself, that as long as he had it all under control, as long as he restrained himself to those three cuts only, there was no need for anyone to know.

He studiously continued to ignore that little voice in the back of his head that shouted at him for not asking for help. It continued to tell him that he was playing with fire. It might feel like he was in control right now, but even though he still managed to keep it at three cuts, each evening the cuts got a little deeper. Each evening he needed a little more.

Now they both froze at Harry’s flinch. Draco looked up at Harry, before he slowly pushed up his sleeve, revealing the cuts beneath. Silently, he looked at the cuts, before healing them - not asking Harry beforehand if it was okay to do so. When the cuts were all gone, Draco finally looked up at Harry.

Harry kept himself still, not daring to meet Draco’s gaze.

“Why?” came the predictable question after awhile.

“I don’t know. I just… felt I had to.”

“You had to,” Draco repeated flatly.

“Yeah,” what more was there that Harry could say? He had no idea why he was cutting, he just knew he needed it. At times he felt he needed it even more than he needed air to breathe.

“You could have come to me,” Draco sounded hurt.

“I know. I just… I really don’t know why. I just, you know, needed to do it.” Harry felt himself blush.

“You needed to?”

“Yeah. I know it sounds stupid, but I just had to. I just couldn’t resist.”

At this, Draco looked at Harry for a long while, not saying anything. Harry could practically see him thinking though, trying to decide something. Nervously, Harry twitched where he stood, sure this was it. Draco was probably deciding that he had had enough of Harry’s antics, and was now going to leave.

“From what I have understood, cutting can be highly addictive,” Draco finally stated, catching Harry of guard with his words - they were not what he had expected. “When the body is injured, when it gets the signal that it is under distress, additional endorphins and adrenaline is released. The high that thus is produced helps deal with the injury. Of course, the body does not distinguish between injury received in battle or a fight, and injury that one does to oneself.” He paused for a moment, before continuing. “I also suspect that risk of getting caught increases the adrenaline, making it all that more addictive. In other words Harry, I believe you are an addict.”

Thoughts were reeling in Harry’s head. He did not want Draco’s arguments to make sense, he did not want to be an addict, but he could not refute how it all just seemed to click into place. It was not like when he had started to cut anymore, he had actually started to become content with life again, but still he had this urge to cut that he just could not explain. Put to that the urge to cut more, or deeper, and it did sound like an addict chasing his high.

Before he could say anything though, Draco suddenly grabbed the collar of his robes and he found himself being side-along apparated to just outside Hogwarts, where the wards stopping apparation ended. There Draco took Harry’s hand, and without a word started to practically drag Harry towards the school. When Harry tried to stop and ask where they were going, he would just get a short grunt in reply. Soon though it became apparent, as they approached Gryffindor Tower.

Outside the Fat Lady’s portrait, they stopped.

“Let me in,” Draco commanded. Not even thinking about doing anything but obey, Harry said the password. As it was time for dinner, the common room was empty.

“Take me up to your dorm,” came the next order, and without thinking, Harry complied once again.

*

The dorm was also empty, and once they got there, Draco finally let go of Harry, turning to face him instead.

“You want the risk of getting caught doing something forbidden, Harry? Your bold, Gryffindor heart thrives on thrills?” there was an edge to Draco’s voice, something that Harry could not define. Unable to do anything but agree, he nodded. Draco moved in closer and before Harry could say anything, he found himself pushed up against the wall, Draco’s lips hard against his, his tongue demanding entrance into Harry’s mouth.

It was nothing like the kisses they had shared before. Draco’s tongue explored Harry’s mouth without mercy, their teeth clashing together and then Draco bit down on his lower lip, almost drawing blood. Harry let a small groan escape. At the same time Draco was holding him forcefully against the wall, pushing down and probably causing bruising to Harry’s arms. He felt his cock twitch, apparently liking this new kind of kissing.

When Draco released Harry, they were both flushed and panting.

“Do you trust me?” Draco suddenly asked.

“Yes,” Harry did not even pause to think before answering, he did not have to. At his answer, an almost predatory smile formed on Draco’s face.

“I’ve been thinking for some time now, that I really want to take our relationship to the next level.” Draco’s expression, and the way he was still holding Harry up against the wall, standing so close that their chests almost touched, made it perfectly clear what that next level meant. Harry could not help a small gasp as his cock twitched hard at the mere thought.

“In here?” he managed to gasp out.

Smiling wickedly, Draco nodded. “You like the danger of almost getting caught. So what is a better place than this - all your noble and upstanding Gryffindor mates are at dinner right now, but you never know when they will be back…” Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat, but to his surprise, his cock apparently really liked the idea as he felt it starting to harden. He reached for his wand and put a locking spell on the door to the dormitory, but to his surprise, Draco immediately removed it.

“Where’s the risk if we lock the door,” he said in explanation. Gulping, Harry felt himself blush and his heartbeat quickened.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pushed up on Ron’s bed.

“This isn’t my bed,” he managed to gasp.

“Who cares,” came the short reply and then Draco was upon him, pinning him down against the mattress. Before he knew it, Draco pointed his wand at him, and he suddenly found himself naked. He hardly had the time to squirm at the sudden cold against his skin before the next spell had his arms and legs stretched out towards the corners of the bed and bound tightly.

“I’ve had some things I wanted to try out with you for some time now,” Draco said with a mischievous smile, before casting an accio-spell. Nothing seemed to happen, but then a box suddenly came flying thorough the open window. Seeing it, Draco smiled with excitement.

“I’m going to take my time with you, Harry, just so you know. Increasing the risk of getting caught for each moment as dinner ends. And even if they don’t come in here, I’m going to make you scream so that there will be no one in the whole tower doubting what you are up to in here. Is that clear?”

Feeling his pulse quicken, Harry nodded. He had no idea what to expect. His encounters had always been just quick fucks, nothing like this. Whatever this was. He had no idea what Draco was planning. He was not about to complain though. He tried to think about how awful it would be to get caught - he would not be able to look them in the eyes ever again - but Draco was right. The part that was afraid of getting caught was minuscule compared to the majority of him that had never been this exited about anything before. Apparently, he really did crave risks.

He looked at Draco, who at the moment was seated on his lower abdomen, quickly looking through the box and then taking out a couple of small jars. His was wearing his blond hair a little longer now than earlier years, and for the moment it was hanging before his eyes as he opened the first jar and seemed to check on whatever it was that were contained therein. His cheeks were faintly flushed with the excitement of what they were doing and there was a sudden ache in Harry’s chest at the sight. Even if McGonagall herself would walk in and catch them in the act, Harry would not care. He had never wanted anyone this much before.

Tipping the jar slightly, a light, fluffy substance started to pour out on Harry’s stomach. Draco moved his hand while pouring and soon there were white trails all over Harry’s torso, most in a pool just over his navel and then in two more, covering his nipples. When he was satisfied, Draco took the second jar, from which he poured a slightly more running, thick and brown substance that Harry soon realized was chocolate sauce as the delicate aroma filled the room. From that he figured the first substance to have been some kind of cream.

The chocolate was poured in twirls on the cream, but also in thin trails along his sides and up along his arms. Finishing with the chocolate, Draco reached into his box once more and with a big smile took out three cherries - placing one on each nipple and then the last one in the pool of cream and chocolate on Harry’s upper stomach.

Apparently finished, he put the box aside and moved to sit between Harry’s legs. He looked over his work before meeting Harry’s eyes. Silvery eyes met his emerald green ones, and holding them Draco bowed down and slowly and with deliberation licked up a small stream of sauce from Harry’s side.

The playing with food had seemed an almost juvenile play at first to Harry, but when Draco’s tongue touched his side and licked up the creamy substance a sharp thrill went through him and straight to his cock. Draco was careful not to even come close to actually touching it though. Instead he continued to lick up what he had just poured out, the smaller streams and trails first. All the while he took care to keep Harry’s gaze.

The slick feel of the sauce and cream together with Draco’s wet tongue sent chills and sparks all through Harry. Soon, he was tugging at his restraints, wanting desperately to touch the blond, rip his clothes of to have a look at what he was hiding beneath those robes. Draco remained disappointingly clothed though.

As Draco circled in on the small pool of cream and chocolate over his navel, Harry was groaning loudly. He was now tugging so hard on his restraints that he would for sure have bruises around both his wrists and ankles. Draco smiled at a particularly hard tug, but without increasing his pace.

Having licked his stomach clean, he dipped shortly into his navel with his tongue, before making his way up to Harry’s nipples. As he did, he also moved to sit at Harry’s side, so that he would not touch Harry’s cock that by now was hard and throbbing.

Circling in toward his nipples, Draco took the cherry that had been on Harry’s stomach. Lifting his head he closed his eyes and put it in his mouth and started to chew the berry slowly and with obvious relish. Harry could not keep his eyes from the movements of Draco’s adam’s apple and how his tongue would sneak out between his lips every now and then to catch an escaping drop of juice.

When he finally swallowed, he opened his eyes and as the lust-filled gaze met Harry’s the rest of the world could have ceased to exist for all that Harry cared. Draco’s robes hung loose, but his breath was heavy and unsteady as he lowered his head back down to continue where he had left, licking around Harry’s nipples. Licking one clean, he took the cherry, but before repeating the performance from before, he lightly nibbled on the now clean (albeit sticky) nipple, watching Harry’s reaction intently. Seeing him twitching in response, he smiled before biting a little harder, causing Harry to give a small shout in response.

When he finished the third cherry, he once again moved position, now seating himself back in between Harry’s legs. His hair was now hanging in a loose mess and he was breathing in short, exited gasps. His blushing, rosy cheeks went well with his piercing, silver-gray eyes.

He was now stroking the insides of Harry’s ankles with his long, supple fingers. All the while, he was looking Harry over contemplatively. Suddenly, there was a quirk in his smile and then he reached for his wand. Before he could react, Harry found he had his feet unbound.

Draco lifted his hips and pushed a pillow he acciod from someone else’s bed (Harry had no interest or even ability to care about from who’s) under them. Then, with surprising strength, he bent Harry’s legs upward, so that he was almost laying doubled. When he had him in a position he apparently was satisfied with, he somehow managed to tie Harry up again to keep him that way, while he leaned back to have a look at his work.

Feeling more exposed than he had ever before, Harry gulped in embarrassment and squirmed in his bonds. Then his eyes fell on Draco’s face and he stilled as he took in the look of awe at the other boy’s face as he was looking at Harry.

Almost reverently, Draco reached out and and stroke the backside of Harry’s thigh, keeping his eyes fixed on Harry’s exposed hole though.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice catching. Harry felt all the remains of his embarrassment leave him at that, wanting to open up and show as much of himself as possible instead to Draco, wanting that look on the other boys face to last forever.

With what seemed to be a great struggle, Draco forced his eyes away and their eyes met. Draco moved back to Harry’s side, and then their lips met again. First, it seemed like Draco tried to keep the kiss soft, but it was not long before they were devouring each other’s mouths, Draco’s tongue once again invading Harry’s mouth, sucking Harry’s tongue and biting lightly. With a gasp, Draco tore their lips apart and for a moment they just stared at each other, both now lost to their lust for the other.

Draco then moved back to sit behind Harry. Starting to stroke his thighs, he clearly had a hard time restraining himself though. Where his touch had been soft before, now he was lightly scratching Harry with his nails.

When Harry suddenly felt the wet tip of Draco’s tongue touch the inside of his left buttock, he could not help the yelp that escaped him. Encouraged, Draco circled his hole and then suddenly Harry felt the tip tease his hole. His cock was by now leaking and throbbing hard, his breath unsteady and heavy.

Soon he felt Draco’s tongue teasing open his hole, coaxing it to relax. Harry could hardly believe this was happening. No one had ever done anything like this to him. He had never felt this intimate with anyone before. He was now tugging at his restraints again, but not to get loose - he just could not keep still anymore. He felt thankful the restraints were there, keeping him in place because without them that would have been impossible.

Continuing to lick around Harry’s hole, Draco now pushed one finger into it. Lightly he was stroking the spit-slick muscle, helping it to relax, letting the finger in. As he was fingering Harry, he made sure to lick at his hole, keeping it slick and wet. Harry was now moaning continuously and soon he felt how Draco pushed in one finger more. A third soon followed.

As Draco picked up the pace and then his long fingers suddenly found the right spot and Harry’s moans turned into small screams mixed with gasps.

“Draco, if you don’t… I’m going to…” Harry managed to gasp out. Understanding, Draco reluctantly withdrew his fingers.

Suddenly feeling empty, Harry almost sobbed and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up at Draco, and it was his turn to be filled with awe. Having now spelled his own clothes away as well, the blond was standing on his knees behind Harry, hand slick with lube and stroking his cock. Harry thought he had never seen anything as gorgeous before - the former Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team clearly was still taking care of keeping in shape. His body was lean and strong, muscles dancing beneath the surface of the skin. His skin, so fair it seemed almost transparent, veins forming a delicate pattern that almost made him seem tinted in blue. At the moment the blue tint was mixed with a rosy blush, giving him an almost ethereal allure. Just as the rest of him, Draco’s cock was straight, long and lean.

As Harry took in the sight, Draco finished stroking himself and moved closer to Harry. Finding Harry’s eyes, their gaze locked again. Harry felt Draco’s fingers touching his hole lightly, coating it as well with lube, before aligning himself to enter it. Tensing a little as he felt the head of Draco’s cock enter, he soon relaxed giving Draco a wordless signal to keep pushing in. Going almost painfully slowly, stopping to give Harry time to adjust every now and then, they never let their eyes slip from the other. Emerald eyes meeting silver ones, their breaths coming in short gasps and then finally Draco was fully seated deep in Harry.

For a moment, they just took in the sensations. With a short gasp, Draco suddenly reached down for his wand, that was beside them on the bed and suddenly spelled Harry’s right hand free.

“You may touch yourself only when I tell you to, is that understood?” he gasped the command, still holding Harry’s gaze. Harry could do nothing but nod, wanting to reach for his cock but wanting to please Draco even more.

Then Draco started to move. Small, careful thrusts at first, but soon he was picking up pace. When he found Harry’s sweet spot again, his movements became more deliberate as he knew where to aim. Each time he hit the spot, Harry let out a scream, and for each time it sounded louder. Draco was soon panting as well, steadily increasing his speed. It was not long before Harry found he was almost at the edge again, not even having had one touch to his cock yet.

With a groan, Draco nodded his head to Harry’s hand, gasping out the permission for Harry to touch himself. Not loosing any time, his hand grabbed his cock and he was stroking himself in pace with Draco’s thrusts.

It only took a handful of strokes and then Harry felt his bollocks draw up and he came all over his own stomach, crying out his release till his throat felt sore. Two thrusts later, he was dimly aware of Draco joining him, his release filling Harry’s insides.

He was faintly aware of being released from the rest of his bonds, and then Draco collapsed on top of him. Both sleek with sweat and Harry’s cum sticky in between them, they just lay there, catching their breath.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it; the last chapter. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :)

“So. Was this excitement enough to satisfy you for the rest of the day at least?” Draco finally said, as he rolled of Harry to lay beside him instead. Harry chuckled quietly in reply. “Yeah, I would think so. That was incredible!”

“Yeah,” the smile could be heard in Draco’s voice. “You know it really has to come from within you though,” he continued after a short pause. Harry looked at him quizzically, prompting him to elaborate. “I meant what I said, back then. I’ll be here for you, but the will to get well, to stop hurting yourself - that has to come from you. No one can force an addict to get rid of their addiction - at least not in a lasting, healthy way. I guess locking you up, restraining you, would in theory do it, but what would be the additional damage from that kind of treatment? No, if you want to continue to hurt yourself, get high on adrenaline and endorphins, there really isn’t much I can do. If you want to stop though, I’ll be here, helping you, each step on the way.” He turned so that he could look Harry in the eyes. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“If I’ll..?” Harry was astonished that that could even be a question. “Draco, I know I’m messed up. I don’t want to be though. I don’t want to want to cut. The desire to do it is just so strong, and when I don’t do it for awhile, I get all shaky and feel weak.”

Draco nodded, as if what he was hearing was what he expected. “Withdrawal, your body is used to the high levels endorphins.”

“This was a really good way to get my fill though,” Harry said with a smile. Draco smiled back. “It was, but don’t you go get addicted to sex now,” he winked at Harry.

“Draco, how do you know all this about addictions? And about how the will to get better should come from me?” Harry finally asked what he had been wondering about for some time now. Draco looked away, not answering at first, but then he seemed to gather some resolve and looked back up at Harry.

“When Father went to Azkaban, Mother didn’t take it that well. In fact, she refused to accept it at all.” Draco turned his eyes away from Harry’s now, looking blankly ahead when continuing. “At first, she’d just sit there, in the greenhouse at the Manor, not eating, not moving, hardly speaking. If she did speak, it was to ask when Father would be home. Never anything else. I tried my best to do everything I could to get her to accept that Father wasn’t coming back. I tried to get her to realize, that we could go on though, the two of us. Build a new life. She refused. No matter what I tried to say or do, she wouldn’t budge. She just kept sitting there, asking for Father.”

Draco’s voice drifted off for a little bit. Harry pondered whether or not he should say something, but he did not know what that might be. A part of him even felt guilty, even though he knew Lucius had only himself to blame - but it was because of Harry’s defeat of Voldemort, that Draco’s father now was in Azkaban.

“One day, when I went to see her, she was not there though. Asking the house-elves, I found her walking in the garden. At first, I was happy. I thought she was finally getting better. I thought that all I had done; taking care of everything around the house, dealing with the press, making sure I’d spend time with her and talk about things I knew interested her… I thought all that had finally paid off. That she was finally snapping out of it and getting back to being Mother again.” Draco sounded wistful and bitter at the same time, making Harry dread the continuation.

“That was until I went out to her. Seeing me, she put her hands around my neck and pulled me into a close hug. It was when she tried to kiss me that I realized something was awfully wrong.” The bitterness was clear now. Harry ached with him, as he continued. “I pushed her away from me, and she cried Father’s name in confusion. After a little examination, I found that she was under the effect of Heavenly Hope; a highly illegal and addictive potion that makes you relive the happiest moments of your life. Apparently she thought she was reliving the time when she and Father had been newly-wed.” Draco sighed, bitterness replaced with a tired sadness.

“I had the Manor searched through and all of Mother’s supply of Heavenly Hope was destroyed. It wasn’t long though, until she somehow had gotten hold of some more and was living in her memories again. No matter how I tried, she always got more. Even if it broke my heart, I even tried to have her locked in her rooms. She fought me; she cried and pleaded, but I still didn’t let her leave. She hurt herself repeatedly and I healed her but I didn’t let her out. I told her - and myself - that it was for the best. She needed to get rid of her addiction, and I had tried everything else. I sat with her, as much as I could stand. I endured her rages, her accusations and her tears. Finally though, the addiction was broken - I had learned the spell that let me measure the substance-levels in her blood, and there was no trace left. She looked me in the eyes and smiled and thanked me. She told me that she understood why I had done it and that she loved me. So I let her out. That evening I found her in the gardens again, just like the first time. Even free from the addiction, she still wasn’t free from her desire for the potion. She didn’t want to quit. So the first chance she got, she acquired some more. That’s how I learned the importance of wanting to get rid of an addiction. That’s how I know that if you don’t want to stop cutting, I cannot help you, no matter how I want to. The desire to quit has to come from you.”

Harry reached out his hand to take Draco’s. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said. Draco just shrugged “When I see her, she thinks I am Father. I leave her care mostly to the house-elves now.”

“You haven’t contacted St. Mungos?”

“Several times. They won’t help. They always have some excuses, but the truth is that they don’t want to help the wife and son of a convicted Death Eater.” Draco’s voice was now flat and emotionless.

“That’s not right! The two of you were cleared.”

“The world ain’t fair, Harry. You of all people should know that. Anyway, the Malfoy name might not be worth much right now, but I’ll get all O:s on my NEWTs and I’ll get the name cleared again. Then I’ll get Mother the help she needs and deserves. You just wait and see.” He smiled at last then, although Harry could tell that he meant it. Draco might be going through rough times right now, but he was far from defeated.

“I want to quit, you know. I just don’t know how to fight the urge when it hits.” Harry decided to return to the topic, no matter how difficult it was.

“Wanting to quit is the start. I’ll help you with the fighting, if you only let me.” Draco looked into Harry’s eyes as he reached up to cup his chin. Harry nodded into it as Draco kissed him gently.

“Together, we’ll make it through anything,” he said with a smile.

“Together?”

“If you only want to?”

“I want to, I really, really want to.” Draco laughed at Harry’s enthusiasm. It had taken him a long time to get used to the thought of being in a relationship, but now that he had, it felt right. Now, he could not think of not being with Harry. He might be all broken, but Draco was sort of messed up as well. And as they say, the most interesting people are the broken and scared ones…

“I’m glad. I love you.” The words just slipped out. Harry stilled. Then a small smile started to form at the corners of his mouth. “I love you too.”

*

Even though they would have preferred to just stay in bed, the threat of returning Gryffindors had them get up and soon Harry was walking Draco down to the common room. The common room was almost empty, except for Ron, who was sitting on the sofa just staring ahead, seemingly lost in thought. As they walked by him, he spoke up though.

“It’s because I’ve been such an arse lately, isn’t it?”

Harry and Draco stopped and turned to look at him. Without looking at them, or waiting for a reply, he continued.

“You just had to use my bed.”

Harry blushed at that; how did he know? Draco just smirked. Now Ron turned to look at them.

“You know, I will have nightmares for ages. No one should walk into a room and see their best mate doing… that. And on my bed of all places! My bed. Where I’m supposed to sleep again, this night. I’m seriously considering obliviating myself.”

At this, Harry was filled with horror. “You walked in on us?” he managed to squeak out.

“Yeah,” Ron was blushing as well, his face matching his hair. “We came up from dinner, and well… Frankly, we thought you were being tortured or something!”

“We? As in who exactly?” Harry was suddenly having a hard time breathing. Draco was showing the faintest of flush as well, and was keeping a calming hand on Harry’s shoulder as he wanted to sink through the floor and vanish.

“Well, there was Neville. And Seamus and Dean. And then there was, ahmm, well… ‘Mione.” Ron said her name in a rush, like he really did not want to. Harry really did not want to know it either. It was enough that all his dorm-mates had walked in on them, without him and Draco even noticing anything, but Hermione as well? He was never, ever going to be able to face anyone again! He groaned and sunk down on the sofa, next to Ron.

“I guess you were sort of lucky ‘Mione came with, at least she made Seamus and Dean leave. They wanted to stay. Said something about getting some new ideas to try out…” Ron was babbling nervously now. “’Mione wouldn’t have any of that though. So she made them leave. And not only the dorm, she made sure everyone else left the tower as well. You know, because of the… erhmm, sounds. Everyone except me, that is. I mean, I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to listen to you!” Ron was on a roll now, babbling in panic. “I just… I needed to be here, when you came out. I needed to… I needed to say that I’m sorry. For being an arse. I talked with ‘Mione. And well. Then I saw you. On my bed. MY bed! I’m going to need therapy, you realize that mate? I’m going to have to see a mind healer for the rest of my life. I’m never going to be the same.”

“Sorry, I just… Ahmm, I…” What did you say to your best mate when they had seen you tied up with your arse on display, getting buggered silly?

“No, no… I’m sorry. Just, no repeats, okay? At least not on my bed? … Do you think I could have it replaced? With a new one? If we say this one broke or something?” Ron chuckled nervously, and Harry joined him.

“Harry?” Draco suddenly interrupted. He looked from Harry to Ron and back at Harry. “You’re okay here for now? You two need to bond or whatever you Gryffindors do?” he smirked, but with kind laughter in his eyes. Harry nodded. “I’m going down to the dungeons. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Draco gave Harry a quick kiss before leaving the Gryffindor Tower.

“So, you two are really getting serious.” Ron’s words were more a statement than a question.

“Yeah, you think you’re ever going to be okay with that?” Harry was almost afraid to ask, but he felt he had to.

“I can’t say I like it, but, yeah. I guess I could get used to it. At least, for your sake. Don’t ask me to start liking the git though!”

“Accepting that I like him is enough,” Harry answered with a smile.

“I guess I can manage that.”

They sat quiet for awhile.

“’Mione and Bulstrode are just friends,” Ron said suddenly, braking the silence. Harry looked up, nodding as he knew that was the case.

“Me and ‘Mione talked today. I guess I overreacted. Bulstrode’s been a great help to ‘Mione. They almost have a plan ready to get her parent’s memories restored.”

“That’s great! I hope it will work. So, are you and ‘Mione back together now?”

“Nah. We talked about that, too. I love her, I really do. Lately though, all we did was fight. I guess that’s one of the reasons we were both kinda jerks to you,” Ron blushed at that confession. “We were so tired of fighting with each other about everything, we just grabbed at the first chance at getting someone else to be angry at, that we could both be angry at. I can’t say how sorry I am for that. You really didn’t deserve it. ‘Mione feels the same way. Anyway, we talked about it, and for now, we’re staying friends. We’re not saying that we’ll never get back together, but as it is we decided we need to at least look around a little. See if our fighting stops, and just see what happens.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Harry paused for a moment, before burying his hands in his face again. “I don’t know how I can face ‘Mione ever again though,” he groaned.

“Hey, at least it wasn’t her bed!” Ron laughed now. Harry punched him jokingly in the arm; Ron punched back. It felt good, to be laughing with Ron again.

It looked like things would sort themselves out with Ron and Hermione. Draco loved him. Harry still felt pressure on him from the outside, but for the first time, he felt like he could manage. He was not alone. Hermione and Ron might not know the extent of how bad it all had gotten, but they were his friends. As was Ginny. Draco was his strength though. Draco made him want to be alive and happy and not broken anymore.

With Draco by his side, he was ready to face the world. He was ready to save himself.


End file.
